


Tell Me Why

by Anarkanex



Category: Youtube RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Breakups, F/M, Markipler - Freeform, YouTube, good luck, honestly this will probably be an emotional rollercoaster, im so sorry, rip in pieces
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:50:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 39,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7767400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarkanex/pseuds/Anarkanex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you even listening to me?”</p>
<p>She wasn’t. She couldn’t.</p>
<p>“Look at me.”</p>
<p>Her eyes were hot and heavy and stuck on the floor. She knew that if she looked up, she’d lose it. She didn’t think she could endure the expression on his face.</p>
<p>"You know what?" He sounded angry. "Fine. Just...fine."</p>
<p>She heard shuffling, feet moving across the hardwood. The front door opened. She looked up, desperately hoping that he'd be standing there, waiting for her to give him something, anything, but he wasn't. He was walking out. The love of her life was walking out of the house.</p>
<p>Out of her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“Are you even listening to me?”

She wasn’t. She couldn’t.

“Look at me.”

Her eyes were hot and heavy and stuck on the floor. She knew that if she looked up, she’d lose it. She didn’t think she could endure the expression on his face.

“Dammit, (Y/N), just fucking _say_ something!”

She flinched at the desperation in his voice. She knew exactly what he was doing without even looking at him. She knew the anxious way he chewed at his lip, and the way his fingers kept finding his hair, as if straightening it would somehow sort out the mess. She knew the sad sigh on his lips and the heaviness of his shoulders. She knew the worry in his eyes. She felt it too, all of it. She felt everything.

“Please,” He begged, “Look at me, tell me what’s going on.”

Those words were enough to tear apart the seams she’d been stitching together and send her sprawling, gasping for air, begging for mercy.

 

\-----------------------------

 

_Three Years Ago_

“Dammit!” She pounded her fist on the door in a selfish attempt to get it open. She knew, she _KNEW_ it wouldn’t help, but she couldn’t stop.

“ _Please,”_ It was a broken whisper, and with it went all of the strength in her limbs. She slid down the wall, her eyes finally releasing the sobs she’d been swallowing for hours. He wasn’t going to open the door.

Suddenly her feet were on the ground and she was moving, taking her stress and cares and _heartbreak_ with her, carrying it on her shoulders. She had to get out. She had to get away. He wasn’t going to open the door.

She forced herself not to look at his car, dormant in the driveway. Of course he was home, but she’d already known that. He wasn’t going to open the door.

Her feet carried her to the street. She’d walked here. The soreness in her toes reminded her with every step, aching for a lift home, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. Her thoughts were threatening to consume-

There was a loud sound, and then swearing. She saw a blur of black, a soft gleam. It was the sun, hitting the shiny black hood of a little black car. The driver was staring at her, eyes wide and jaws agape.

All at once, the sensation returned to her limbs. She stumbled, hands clutching desperately for something, _something_ to cling to. “I’m sorry,” She sobbed, bracing herself on the hood. She was in the middle of the street. He’d almost hit her. “I’m sorry.” Her words were foreign to her ears, and her voice didn’t sound like her own. She was numb and broken all at once, and she couldn’t figure out if she was feeling too little or too much.

The driver opened his door, brows creasing together in worry. “I am so sorry,” He breathed, taking a few tentative steps towards her. “I was changing the station, and you came out of nowhere…” He took a moment to reign in his panicked breathing.

She was staring down at her hands. One gripped the hood, the other balled into a fist. They were bruised. Her knuckles were white. Her fingers were numb.

“Are you okay?” She felt a hand on her shoulder and she crumpled under the weight, sinking to her knees. The gravel grit uncomfortably against the fabric over her knees, digging against her in ways that made her sure she was bleeding. Her hands fell to her lap, defeated. Her expression relaxed until it was simply numb, her eyes making desperate attempts to blink away the tears.

She looked at her hands. They were bruised.

“Hey,” He said, using his grip on her shoulders to pull her up onto her feet. “Hey.” He said it again, clearly trying to catch her attention, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.

She looked at her hands. They were bruised. The skin on the side of her palm was a field of blues and purples, and her knuckles had been worn from ivory to red, cracked in some places and bleeding in others. The swelling had gone down.

“Please,” He said, “Look at me, tell me what’s going on.”

She sucked in the breath she’d been clawing so desperately for, feeling the cool air rush down her throat and sink into her lungs. As she looked at him, her face crumbled, and she found that any words she might’ve said died in her throat.

“Woah, woah,” His words came softly. His hands shifted on her shoulders. “No, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He guided her backwards, carefully adjusting her so that she was sitting on the hood, his hands on her arms. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve been looking, I-“

“It’s okay.” It was a whisper, but it was enough. She sniffled, looking up at him. His face was creased with worry, and he didn’t deserve it. “I wasn’t looking either.”

“Are you okay?” His voice was deep, steady. Something about it commanded attention.

“Y-yes, I…I’m o-okay,” She sniffled again, using her hands to limply wipe at her eyes. She knew she looked a mess, but she couldn’t bring herself to do anything about it. She felt as though her world had fallen open and swallowed her whole.

“No you’re not.” He said it softly but firmly. His grip on her arms tightened, begging her attention. “Where are you headed?”

She let out a choked sob, putting her head in her hands. “I-I…I don’t know,” She wailed, wishing desperately that she could crawl into a hole. She had nowhere to go.

He stood there for a second, lips pressed into a thin line. After a moment, he released her arms, stepping back. “Get in,” He murmured, motioning to the passenger side of the car.

She looked at him with a frown on her lips, her confusion written clearly across her face. “But…I-I said I was okay, really, I-“

“You’re clearly not okay,” He said adamantly. At her reaction, his face softened and he extended a hand to her. “You’re obviously _very_ upset about something, and you walked into the road without even noticing. Please, just let me take you somewhere.”

Hesitantly, she took his hand. He pulled her up and ushered her to the passenger side, where he opened the door for her, watching her expectantly. She slid in, trying her best to get a grip on what was happening. She was in a stranger’s car – a stranger who had almost _hit_ her with said car – and he was in the driver’s seat. The seats were leather, black leather, and the car was very clean. The radio was playing a popular station, a song she didn’t recognize. Maybe she had heard it. She couldn’t remember. The seat belt made a soft click when she tucked it in, and the extra compression against her front made her feel odd. She looked at her hands. They were bruised.

“Where do you want me to take you?” He sat back in his seat, concerned eyes glancing over at her. He was still very obviously worrying, but he smiled in a way that made her feel cared for.

She sniffled, wiping at her eyes again. “I…I don’t really h-have anywhere to…um, to go.” She looked at him then, tears in her eyes.

He let out a soft breath, fingers reaching for the shift. Without a word, he quickly started up the car again, making a few turns. She wasn’t keeping track.

The buildings became unfamiliar, and (Y/N) found that she didn’t recognize the street signs, either. “Where are we going?”

“Well, seeing as how you don’t have anywhere to go, and I’d like to make sure you’re okay, I’m taking you to get some coffee.” He glanced over at her, one hand on the steering wheel. “I hope that’s okay. I figured caffeine might help. It always helps me clear my head.”

She managed a weak smile, giving him a small roll of her head. “I could use a few shots of caffeine.”

He let out a relieved sigh, a smile touching his lips. “Okay, great. I was going to say, though,” He seemed to be mulling over his words, “If…If you want to, um, talk about anything, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

She sniffled, meeting his eyes. Her fingers tapped anxiously against the fabric of her jeans. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do. I nearly ran you down.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “That was my fault. I should’ve been paying attention.” She felt like hitting herself. How stupid could she be? She should’ve never gone to the asshole’s house in the first place. She should’ve known he wouldn’t answer the door. She shouldn’t have given him the satisfaction of-

“You alright?” The guy looked over at her, his fingers gently brushing her arm, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Your expression changed. You looked…really sad.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to tame his unruly black locks. Something about the haunting look in her eyes was really worrying him, and he wanted to make sure that she was alright. She seemed really shaken up, by what, he had no idea, but he hoped she’d tell him. Not because he wanted to know, but he couldn’t help much if he didn’t. If worse came to worse, he’d offer her a shoulder to cry on.

“I’m…Yeah, I’m okay.” She watched as he turned into a parking lot, focused eyes scanning for a space. He found one, a few spots down from the entrance to the building. It was a little café, one she’d never seen before, surrounded by foreign shops and little businesses.

“Well, come on. Let’s get you those shots of caffeine.” He shot her a charming smile and got out, watching as she did so too.

Hesitantly, she followed him into the building. Her senses were immediately assaulted with various scents, _all_ of which were pleasant, effectively making her drool. She hadn’t realized until she’d heard the sounds of her stomach how hungry she was, and they were relentless. He seemed to have noticed too, evident in the way his lips pulled up into an amused smile, revealing straight white teeth.

“So, some shots of caffeine _and_ a snack, huh?” He chuckled, approaching the counter.

She followed, cheeks heating with embarrassment. (Y/N) studied the menu as he ordered, trying her best to decide on something. When she finally did, she gave her order to the friendly woman behind the counter, reaching for her purse.

“No, don’t worry about it.” His hand touched her arm, gently. A reassuring gesture. “I’ve got it.”

She sighed, “But-“

“Don’t worry about it.” He said it more firmly this time, softening his words with another smile. She knew he only meant well, so she gave in, smiling her thanks.

They waited out their orders at a small table by the window. When the order was called and he went to retrieve them, she went about studying the café. The walls were a warm brown, like coffee beans, and littered with various coffee-related decals and pictures. There were aisles of mugs and bags of coffee by the register, which was positioned along the wall on the far side of the room. The rest of the floor space was occupied by comfy recliners and sofas, while tables hugged the spaces next to the wall. It was a warm atmosphere, but a lonely one. She and him were the only two customers in the building at the moment. She didn’t mind the privacy.

“Here you go.” He pushed her coffee and plate in front of her with a warm smile, taking his seat. “So, I have yet to learn your name.”

She grabbed for her coffee, pressing the mug promptly against her lips. “Oh, um…it’s (Y/N).”

“(Y/N), got it.” He grinned, holding out a hand. “I’m Mark.”

She grasped his hand, giving it a small shake. When she began to pull away, she felt his grip tighten. He was looking down at her hand, eyes transfixed on her bruises.

“What happened?” He asked softly, turning their hands so that he could see the bruises better. He released his grip on her fingers and replaced it on her wrist, gently pulling her hand closer. He hadn’t noticed it until now, and he was horrified. It looked as if she’d been punching something, or maybe trying to claw something open? The side of her hand was bruised and her knuckles were red, split in some places.

She squirmed uncomfortably at his question, a sigh passing her lips. “I, um…I…” She pulled her hand away, clasping both of hers together at the end of the table. His eyes found her other hand.

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N), that one too?” Mark leaned forward on the table, his concern etched into his face. He repeated, “What happened?”

“I tried to break into my own house.” She sighed, putting her head in her hands. Saying it out loud made her feel like an idiot.

He looked confused. “Why?”

She sighed again, wiping at her cheeks. “Because I’m an idiot.” Slowly, (Y/N) drew her breath, trying to find the best way to word this. She owed him an explanation, but she wasn’t sure she’d make it through it without breaking down.

Mark took a sip of his coffee. “Why do you think that?”

“This is probably going to be way more than you asked for-“

“It’s okay.” He issued her a reassuring smile. “I have time.”

She nodded, fingers closing around her mug. “I…um….I-I had this boyfriend, Jordan, he…shit,” She sighed, taking in a shaky breath. Mark’s expression was soft, patient. “We were together for years. Five, to be exact. We met in college.” She wasn’t sure how much to tell him, so she decided to skip the unimportant details. “It’s a long story, and it sounds so… _fucking_ useless, saying it out loud, but-“ She felt the tears welling up again. “I _loved_ him, you know? Yeah, we had our fights, and yeah, we had different interests, but I…he was a part of me, and I was so sure, _so sure,_ he felt the same way. I was so _stupid._ I’m just…stupid.” She shook her head, trying to blink the tears away.

Mark looked sad. “You’re not stupid,” He murmured softly, a frown splitting his lips.

She let out a bitter laugh. “I am. I…I noticed a few months ago, that he was acting differently. Things had been weird for a long time, and I thought he was pulling away, but…suddenly he was so happy, all the time. I thought that things were getting better. I _wanted_ them to get better, I _wanted_ to believe that we’d just been in a rough patch and we were getting over it. But…h-he didn’t… _want_ me.” She choked back a sob, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. “I told him I wasn’t going to be home until really late, cause I had a work thing. Really, I was planning on surprising him with his favorite meal and making it this big _thing,_ I don’t know.” She tried to steady her voice. “He came _home_ with her. They came through the door, already tearing the clothes off of each other and whispering _things_ to each other, I…” She couldn’t swallow the sob this time, and her voice cracked. “I was sitting on the _couch,_ Mark, he didn’t even notice until I…I-I lost it. I didn’t even have it in me to yell, I just left. I just got in my car and drove until I didn’t remember which way I’d turned. He didn’t even chase me, h-he just…let me go.”

Mark’s frown had deepened by now, and he stared at her with eyes full of sympathy. He didn’t even know the girl, but something about the desperate tone to her voice and the pain in her eyes made him want to make her smile. She deserved a smile. She was too pretty to cry like this, to hurt over some asshole.

“When I finally worked up the courage to go back to the house, he was gone. A suitcase was missing, and all of his stuff was out of the bathroom. I didn’t hear a _fucking thing_ for a week.” She shook her head, another bitter laugh escaping her lips. “The asshole waited until I was gone at work to come home, and he had a moving company come take all of my things. _My_ things, as if I…I was the person who’d fucked up. As if it was my fault.” More tears touched her cheeks. “He probably just wanted more room for his…for _her.”_ She tried to swallow her tears with a sip of coffee. It felt wrong in her mouth. “He had all of it delivered to my parent’s house, the son of a bitch. They live across the country, and I work _here,_ I…I don’t know what to do.” She closed her eyes, face scrunching up. “And I just feel so _fucking_ stupid, because I told them I could do this, I told them I’d be okay out here in L.A, and this is just proving to them that I’m just some stupid little girl that can’t take care of herself or see the big picture. I should’ve known. I should’ve guessed by the late night phone calls and the extra shifts and the _fucking_ -“

“(Y/N).” His voice was gentle. He reached out, fingers taking their place on her arm. “This is _not_ your fault.”

She sighed, wiping at her eyes. “I know that. I guess I just feel like I should’ve seen it coming.” She set her mug down with a little too much ‘oomf.’ “He won’t even answer my calls anymore. I still have a few things at the house, but he won’t answer the door. That’s where I, uh, that’s where I was coming from.” She looked up. “When I walked into the road, I mean.”

Mark gave her a knowing look. “She was there, wasn’t she?”

She nodded, biting her lip to stop the tears. “I’m not even sad anymore, Mark. It’s been a month, and I’ve cried myself to sleep more times than I’ve actually slept through the night. And I hate it, I _hate_ giving him the satisfaction of knowing that it’s _tearing_ me up inside, but…I’m just so angry at him. I don’t miss him. I just want him out of my life.”

He felt a heavy weight on his shoulders. Here she was, pouring her very soul out to him, and he didn’t know what to say. He was speechless, at her pain, at the havoc some asshole with a loyalty problem had knowingly wreaked, at the desperate attempt she was making to compose herself. He wanted to see her smile.

“You know,” He murmured, setting his coffee down, “You should’ve broken his face, instead of a window.”

She let out a laugh then, soft and slightly marred by sniffles. He felt accomplished. “I should have. And the windshield to his stupid car.”

“Oh yeah, you should’ve gone to town with that.”

She laughed again, wiping her face. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” She said, sniffling, “I said way too much. I didn’t mean to put all of my problems on you.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it.” He grinned. “I don’t mind helping. Besides, I can kind of relate. I went through a pretty ugly breakup a few months ago.”

She quirked a brow then, eyes shifting from her mug to his face. No wonder he seemed so understanding. He _did._ “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay. The relationship was pretty toxic there at the end, and I think we were just tired of each other. I’m doing fine now.” He offered her a smile, happy to see her return it.

“I’m glad you’re in a good place, then.” She laughed, a few sniffles finding their way in-between. “God, break-ups suck.”

“Nah,” He grinned, chuckling, “Not when you have the right people around.” Mark finished off his coffee and set it down, chewing anxiously at his lip. “So, given the situation, I know that this may be totally inappropriate, but…” He laughed nervously, scratching at his head. “Is there any way you want to get lunch?”

She laughed, setting down her own mug. “Honestly? Fuck yeah I do.”

 

\-----------------------------

 

Mark was staring at her expectantly. One hand anxiously separated his fiery red locks, the other gripped the bottom hem of his shirt.

“Do you have anything to say? At all? Are you just going to _sit there?_ ” He sounded so desperate.

“Mark-“ Her voice broke.

He looked so hopeful then, as if he was waiting for her to say something. To apologize. To tell him she loved him and that everything would be okay. But they weren’t okay. _They_ weren’t okay.

“I’m just so tired of this, Mark.” The words felt like knives on her tongue, and she hated the way the hope on his face faltered.

“I don’t know what you want from me!” He gripped his hair, frustration rolling off of his shoulders. “What do you want me to do, give up my job? Let go of my passion? You know I can’t do that, (Y/N). You can’t ask me to do that.”

“I’m not asking you to do that!” She sighed, putting her head in her hands. “I just wish you were around more. You’re not there when I wake up, and you fall into bed after I’ve already gone to sleep. You can’t leave your desk to go anywhere with me, you don’t join me for meals very often, I just…” She was crying now, “I just want you back. I miss you. You’re in the same _fucking_ room and I miss you!”

He sighed. “You _knew_ my life was like this. I told you. I warned you in every way I knew how, and you were okay with it. You understand, for fuck’s sake! You do it too! You post just as often as I do! Why is that suddenly different now?”

“It wasn’t like this then, Mark!” She stood from the couch, unable to sit still any longer. “I’ve tried, Mark, I’ve _tried._ Yes, I do this too, but I plan it. Sure, it’s a pain in the ass, and sure, I’d rather not wake up in the middle of the night to film a playthrough, but I make it work! I’m bending over backwards to give you space to get your work done and let you goof off with your friends and not make a big deal out of this even though it _is_ a big deal, and for what? I can’t _do_ it anymore. I’ve been trying, so hard, but I just _can’t.”_

He was quiet for a second. “So what, then?”

She was also quiet. “I don’t know.” She put a hand to her forehead, trying to clear her thoughts, but they were a fuzzy, jumbled mess of emotions she couldn’t sort. “I can’t ask you to change this, I know that. It’s selfish of me to ask. But I’m _human,_ Mark, I need you around. I just wish you would come around more often.”

“Dammit, (Y/N), I’ve been trying!” He threw his hands up, exasperated. “It’s not as easy as you think it is! This is my career, it’s what I love! I can’t just take a day off for no reason, I can’t just _not_ record, or everything falls apart. I know you want me around more, okay? I’ve been trying, but you didn’t notice. I can’t be what you want me to be.” He looked so hopeless. “I just can’t.”

“Then I don’t know what else you want me to say.” She let out a choked sob and quietly lowered herself back onto the couch.

She sat like that for a few minutes, and when she looked up, he was gone. She heard a sound from the stairs, and there he was again, bags in tow.

“Mark?” She asked softly, watching him stop dead in his tracks.

“I’m sorry.” When he turned around, there were tears in his eyes. “I’m _so_ sorry, (Y/N). I can’t be what you want me to be and I can’t keep hurting you like this. It’s selfish of me to expect you to live like this.” He sighed, setting his bag down next to his suitcase.

Slowly, he approached her, pulling her into a hug. She pressed her face against his chest, trying to quiet her sobs, trying to ease her shock. She knew exactly what those bags meant.

“I’m so sorry,” He sobbed, pulling back. Mark placed a sad kiss on her forehead, and then he was gone. Out of her reach.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his suitcase, shoulders rigid. He was at the door before she could say anything, and she watched, tears streaming down her face, as he walked out of the house.

Out of her life.


	2. One Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's been MIA for weeks, and her friends are started to get really worried

She’d been a mess for weeks. She slept more than she was awake, and she’d used up nearly all of the videos she’d banked. As of a few days ago, she’d stopped posting altogether, and her fans were getting worried. She got tweets every day, asking her if she was alright and promising her that they’d wait for her, that they’d be there for her, regardless of what was going on. She was grateful for that, at least.

Her parents called once a day. She’d stopped answering. She didn’t answer anyone’s calls. She hardly answered texts.

She was sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket that’s smell was too painfully familiar, when she heard ringing. Her eyes slid over to her laptop, propped on the coffee table. It was a Skype call, but she didn’t feel like answering. She ignored it.

They called again.

Sighing, (Y/N) slid her headphones over her ears and pulled the computer into her lap, answering the call. She didn’t even check to see who it was.

“(Y/N),” The voice said, thick with an accent. It was Jack. “I’m worried about ya.”

She sniffled, grabbing for one of the wadded tissues she’d discarded on the table. The house was a mess, but she couldn’t bring herself to clean it. She barely found the energy to get in the shower these days.

“I’m fine, Jack,” She mumbled, eyes finding the TV. She’d been watching stupid reruns of some comedy on Netflix in a selfish hope that it might make her laugh. It didn’t. “Just needed a break.”

“It’s more than that.” When she looked down, he’d turned on his face cam, and she could see the worry in the creases on his face. “Even Signe’s noticed. All of yur recent videos were recorded a long time ago, and ya haven’t posted in four days. How long has it been since yu’ve played a game?”

She sighed, turning her own camera on. His expression shifted when he saw her, softening. “I don’t know, Jack, a month, maybe?”

“(Y/N)…” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, “I _know_ this has been hard for ya, but you need ta get out. Yu’re not doing yurself any favors by locking yurself in that house, with all of those memories. Ya need ta go out and let yurself have some fun.”

She shook her head, sighing. “I just don’t feel up for it, Jack.”

“Well, we’re all worried about ya.” He sighed, too. “Bob and Wade keep trying ta get me to see if yu want to do a collab, cause ya won’t answer either of ‘em. Yu won’t answer Signe’s texts, either, and she’s been worrying herself ta death. This is the first one of my calls yu’ve answered. I have ta say, I’m surprised.”

“You would’ve just kept calling.” She wiped at her cheeks, hating how weak her voice sounded. “I figured I might as well give you an update.”

He was looking at her again, studying how… _broken_ she looked. Jack hated to see her like this. He wouldn’t say anything, but Mark was just as bad, if not worse. He was guilty beyond belief, and Jack knew that he regretted his decision. He’d hurt her, that was obvious, but Mark was a nice guy. Jack knew why they’d broken up, and as much as he tried to be polite, he just wished they’d sit down and actually talk about it. Mark was a workaholic, sure, but even his content had gone down recently. He posted once a day, and like (Y/N), he used a lot of old videos he’d had stashed away. He never updated twitter or facebook, and he sounded off in their Skype calls. Bob and Wade had tried to fly in and see him, but he’d avoided the visit, claiming he was just too busy. Jack knew he was taking this pretty hard.

“At least record some stuff, (Y/N). It’s yur passion, and I hate ta see ya pushing it aside like this. I think it’ll help ya to have some routine back in yur life.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, pushing a messy strand of hair away from her face. “Fine, Jack, I’ll record _one_ game. _One,_ and then I’m taking a nap, okay?”

He smiled softly, nodding. “One game it is. Mind if I add Bob and Wade?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “No, go ahead. I’ll go start up my computer.”


	3. Playful Banter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things must come to an end, but what happens when there is no good beyond that end?

Mark was a wreck. It seemed like no matter what he did, he couldn’t get her off of his mind. She was always there, on the backs of his eyelids, with tears in her eyes and heartbreak written plainly across her face, watching him walk away from her. He hated the image. Every step away from her had been a string of knife wounds across his chest, and when he’d put his bags into his trunk and gotten behind the wheel, he’d had a breakdown.

He’d had a lot of those. It was foreign to him, waking up without her in his bed. Before, he always stopped for a few minutes to watch her sleep, loving the soft way she smiled as she dreamed. He missed that. He missed her soft sleepy words and the warmth of her skin pressed to his chest, the tired way she grumbled his name when he took too much of the blanket, the way her hands reached for him as he fell in beside her. He missed her so much it felt like his heart had stopped.

He’d fucked up, he knew it, but the pieces were too scattered to put back together by now. Every day he made a painful effort to go to her channel, watching her videos and wallowing in his own misery. Her face made bombs going off in his chest, and he knew, he _knew_ that none of these videos were new. In these, she smiled brightly, giggling and screaming at her games as if no one was watching. She was captivating, and he felt his breath leave his lungs every time she posted.

He wondered how she was doing. He hated to think of her living in that house by herself, crying herself to sleep and staring at the front door, waiting for him to walk in. No, she was strong. She was probably doing better without him than he was without her. Without her, Mark was a mess.

His Skype began to ring. Mark tiredly rubbed his hands against his eyes, quickly adjusting his headset and answering the call. It was Jack.

“Did you manage to get ahold of her?” Mark asked, not bothering to say, ‘hello.’ He had to know. It was eating him up inside.

“I…I did,” Jack said, looking tired.

Mark felt his heart skip a beat. “How is she?”

“She’s, um…,” Jack scrunched up his face, chewing on his lip. He took a breath. “Do ya ta hear what yu’re hoping to hear, or do ya want the truth?”

Mark froze. “The truth.”

“She’s not good, Mark. She’s a mess. I…I felt so bad, looking at her. When she answered, I was shocked. She hasn’t been answering any of us for _weeks,_ and her parents have been calling around. She stopped picking up their calls, too.” Jack sighed, resting his head against his hands. “I managed ta get her ta record a game with Bob, Wade, and I, but…she wasn’t herself.”

“What do you mean?” Mark was hanging on his every word, anxious to hear about her. He just wanted her to be okay, to forget him and move on, be happy. He knew it was a selfish wish, and he knew it wasn’t that easy, but he was tired of hurting her.

“She looks…I don’t know how ta describe it, Mark. She clearly hasn’t been taking care of herself. She’s lost weight, and I’m not sure that she’s really left the house. From what I could see of the walk up ta her recording room, the house was a mess, and she was wearing pajamas. She sleeps all day, and when she’s not sleeping, I’m not sure she’s doing much else. Her eyes were puffy and she sounded so numb, I…I hate seeing her like that.” Jack looked at the camera, at him. “I know that I’m friends with the both of ya, and it’s not really my business, but I just wish yu would _talk_ ta each other. Neither of yu are handling this well.”

Mark sighed, hanging his head in his hands. “I don’t know what there is to talk about, Jack.”

“Yu can’t expect me ta believe yu don’t want ta fix things.”

“I don’t, because that’s not true. I…I-I miss her, so-“ His voice broke, “Much, but I was just hurting her when I was there, and she deserves so much better, Jack, _so_ much better, and…”

“Mark.” Jack spoke firmly, a serious expression on his face. “If anything, she’s worse off now than she was before. The two of yu love each other, more than any two people I’ve ever seen. I don’t understand why this has ta be so painful.”

“It just does.” Mark sighed, eyes finding his other screen once more. She’d posted. “I…I-I’m gonna go, Jack, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright,” Jack said, sighing, “We should record sometime soon.”

“Yeah, definitely. Bye.” Mark ended the call, quickly replacing it with her video. It was new, he could tell by her set-up. Besides, Jack, Bob, and Wade were in it. Her camera was up in the left corner, but she wasn’t in it.

_“Wade, you idiot!”_

Jack and Bob were laughing, and the three of them were sharing some joke while they waited on her. Suddenly, she appeared on the camera, making Mark’s heart sink.

Her intro was slow and sad, almost forced. He hated how weak she sounded, and the numb way she said her own name eluded to her recent tears. He couldn’t tell if her eyes were puffy from the size of the camera, but he could hear the small sniffles she was trying to hide. She wore her glasses, something she only ever used to do when she was sick, and her hair was tied into some messy knot. On her shoulders was a baggy shirt, and he realized with a jolt of pain in his chest that it was one of his old night shirts.

As the video progressed, she didn’t really participate in the happy attitude the boys brought. Every now and then, she let out a small laugh or said something clever, but she wasn’t herself. It was just as Jack had said. It was like she’d had her personality ripped right out of her, leaving a husk of a being in its place. If it weren’t for her half-attempts at smiles, she might’ve looked sick.

He knew her fan-base was worried to death about her, as was his about him. By now, they’d pieced together what had happened, but none understood why. A lot of them seemed to miss he and (Y/N)’s playful banter and obnoxious vlogs, and he had messages every day asking what had happened. He didn’t address it.

When the video ended, she gave a sad attempt at her outro, and then it cut to black. She hadn’t edited in her usual end clip, showcasing a related video and linking to the page of the game, usually followed by some random blooper from the episode that hadn’t made the final cut. It was just black.

Mark quickly closed the tab. He couldn’t see her like that. He knew he was causing her pain, and though the thought was unbearable, he also knew that this would be better for her in the end. He loved her, _god,_ he loved her, but he couldn’t be what she deserved. He wanted her to be happy, and he couldn’t shake the thought that she wouldn’t be, with him.

He only hoped he’d make it through.


	4. Jetlag, Probably

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a few months. It's convention time again, and you decide to go, figuring you'll get to see some familiar faces. Not all familiar faces bring happy tides

“Hey there, guys, I know it’s been a while since my last vlog. Months, actually. Sorry I’m such a slacker.” She gripped the camera in her left hand, holding it at just a decent enough angle to capture her head and shoulders. As she walked, the camera unfocused a little, making her groan. “Sorry about the camera, my other one died. Not to worry, I’ll be back on that one shortly.”

She headed quickly for baggage claim, tired eyes scanning the bags for her own. She just wanted to get to the hotel.

“As you will know if you check my twitter, I just landed here in Seattle, and I’m waiting for my bag to come. It’s gonna be a while before I get the hell out of here, and then I can _finally_ relax at the hotel. I’m so excited to see some of you tomorrow.”

She grabbed her bag and headed towards the next checkpoint, her legs aching. She’d been sitting on the plane for a few hours, and her flight had been delayed by three hours, so she’d spent a decent amount of time at LAX. She wouldn’t really object to a nap right now.

“So, I know this is the first convention I’ve been to in a while. It’s really nice, getting to do this again. I’ve missed this.” She sat down on a bench and looked at the camera, offering a small smile. “You guys have been so supportive of me, and you’ve been so gracious of my privacy. I’m so lucky to have such an amazing community. I will do my best to meet as many of you as I can tomorrow, and for anyone who can’t make it, don’t worry! I’m going to start doing these all the time again, and I’m going to attend as many as I possibly can. I’m going to start doing streams again, too, so you’ll have something to look forward to on the weekends.”

She started walking again, anxious to get out of the airport. “I’m gonna go for now, though. I’ll see you again when I get to my hotel room. Bye!”

(Y/N) turned off the camera and head out front, desperately trying to flag down a taxi. Much to her luck, she caught one’s attention, and it wasn’t long before she was being dropped off at her hotel. It was a nice one, and after she’d paid her cab fee, she quickly went about checking in.

Every time she was invited to conventions, particularly of the PAX division, her room and board were covered. They always put a bunch of creators on one floor, and she usually lucked out with someone she knew. From what she’d heard from Jack, he was staying in the same hotel, so maybe he’d be her hall buddy this time.

She thanked the desk lady for her service and head for the elevator, calling it down to the lobby. When it opened, it was empty, and she let out a sigh of relief. The hotels got pretty cramped around times like this, and she hated getting stuck in elevators with a lot of people. As the doors slid closed, though, a hand stopped them, forcing them open again.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to barge in like that.” The voice made her breath catch in her throat.

“It’s okay,” She said softly.

His shoulders went rigid, his hand freezing around his phone. It was a painful few seconds before he managed to force his eyes up to hers.

“Hi,” Mark said, breathless.

“Hi.” She offered him a small smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. They hadn’t seen each other in half a year, and yet, those soft brown eyes of his still managed to give her pause. The elevator made a dinging sound. “Oh, what floor?”

Mark forced his eyes away from her face, else he might stare forever. “Oh, um…floor nine.”

She let out a small breath. “Me too.” She hit the button, stepping back to brace her wall against the railing. She wanted to get out of here.

Mark put his phone in his pocket, trying his best to hide the anxiety pulsing in his chest. “How are you?”

She seemed caught off guard by his question, and she definitely was. “Um…fine, I guess. I’ve been fine.” She tilted her head at him. “How about you?”

He swallowed a hard lump in his throat. “I’ve been fine, too. Busy, but fine.”

She let out a soft laugh, nodding. “Too many side projects?”

He chuckled, nodding. “You know me, I like to slap my name on anything I can.”

The elevator rolled to a stop, doors sliding open with a soft ‘ding.’ She stepped out first, and he followed, watching her search for his room. She went down the right hallway, as did he, and Mark felt his heart catch when she stopped at the door across from his own.

“This is me,” She said, looking back at him. “See you later, Mark.”

“Bye-bye,” He murmured, giving her a small wave. She pulled her suitcase in and shut the door, leaving him in painful silence.

The second the door was closed, she let out a long breath, her calm expression immediately melting into one of utter pain.

“ _Fuck,”_ She whimpered, sliding down the back of the door. When her thighs hit the ground she crumpled, face coming to rest against the wall. However hard she tried, she couldn’t keep the tears from coming.

His face had been a knife wound, his smile a hydrogen bomb. She hadn’t seen him in months – she’d avoided his channel and any Skype calls he might be a part of, ignored tweets mentioning his name, stayed away from tumblr altogether. It had helped, for the most part. Not seeing him had allowed her to focus on herself and recovering from the fatal blow.

But here he was, in Seattle, with the same fiery red hair and soft brown eyes she’d loved for years. Here he was, strolling back into her life almost as abruptly as he’d left it. Here he was, staying in the room across the hall.

She hadn’t expected him to be at this panel.

Mark, on the other hand, was reeling. He stood outside her door for moments after she closed it, trying to remind himself how to breathe. It was as if his brain had ceased functioning altogether.

When he finally managed to fumble around for his key and get his door open, his thoughts were practically consuming him. He needed to distract himself, to do anything to keep from looking at…

His laptop was propped open on his bed. Her face was on the screen, smiling brightly and sassing Barry for some stupid thing he’d done. Barry just rolled his eyes and said something equally as salty, managing to catch Dan’s attention. The three were playing Pokémon Art Academy for the Grumps’ channel – she’d been hanging out with them a lot lately, and had she not had a channel of her own, Mark was sure she’d have taken Dan up on his invitation to become a Grump. Her sense of humor fit right in with them, and even she and Suzy had become close. They posted pictures of themselves all the time, and Mark was happy to see that she was finding friends.

“Okay but,” Her soft voice came through the speakers, making Mark’s breath catch, “Look how beautiful this drawing is. Truly a work of art. I’m basically van Gogh.”

Dan and Barry were laughing themselves to tears. “(Y/N)! It only has one eye!”

“Oh, shit, you’re right.” She added a brief scribble to the drawing, which didn’t really make it any better. “There, how’s that?”

“Perfect.” Barry kissed his hand in the way a chef would, blowing it in the direction of the screen. “You know, you-“

Mark shut the laptop, his heart racing. Within seconds, he’d torn his clothes off and shut himself in the bathroom, turning on the shower. He didn’t care what temperature it was. He stepped in, hoping to calm himself down and drown out his thoughts.

The cool water hit his shoulders and made him flinch, but he welcomed the change. It was enough to stir him out of the perplexed state he’d spiraled into and help him collect his thoughts.

So she’d come to the convention. This had to have been the first one since…This was his second. The last one had been hell, a mixture of grief and forced smiles and fan after fan asking him if he was okay. He was better this time. It had been months. He was better now.

When he got out of the shower, Mark quickly dried his hair and put on a t-shirt and some sweatpants. He climbed onto the bed and pulled his laptop into his lap, letting out a deep breath, and started it up again.

She’d updated again. A vlog. He clicked it.

_“Hey there, guys, I know it’s been a while since my last vlog. Months, actually. Sorry I’m such a slacker.”_

A sad smile touched his lips. She’d just started acting like herself again, and it was nice to see her smile. Real smiles, without the pain behind them. She didn’t look like she’d been shutting herself off from the world anymore. If anything, she’d blossomed.

As the video came to an end, he noticed the change in setting. The end of the vlog was in her hotel room, and she looked different than before. She’d scrubbed her makeup off, and her face was a little red. She was wearing a puffy t-shirt and had tied her hair back into a messy knot.

_“So, this is probably going to be my last video today. I got to the hotel room, and everything’s great. PAX really does a great job every year.”_

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

 _“I, um…”_ She looked like she was struggling to find her words, _“I’m just tired, I guess. Jetlag, probably.”_ There was a soft laugh, forced. _”I’ve seen a few familiar faces already. That’s what’s great about these conventions,”_ She smiled, _“Seeing old…um, seeing o-old friends.”_

The camera shifted as she sat down on the couch, holding it out at a different angle than before. Had he been someone who didn’t know her, he wouldn’t have noticed the subtle changes.

How her lips twitched when she smiled. How her eyes crinkled, as if trying to hold something in. How her breaths were shaky and she kept doing that thing she did when she was hurting, where she rubbed her right hand against her cheek, as if trying to rub her emotions away.

_“I’m so excited to see some of you tomorrow. I’ll be walking around for a little bit, and I have a panel with some friends. Not to mention, I’ll be at the Grump booth for a few hours. Don’t be scared to just walk up and say hello!”_

Almost as quickly as her smile had faltered, it brightened. She continued on as if she hadn’t been on the verge of tears seconds ago, babbling about her events and people she hoped to meet.

He felt his heart lurch to his throat as she did her outro. She’d stumbled.

 _“Well, I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Thank you all for checking out this video, and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day. See ya next time! Bye-bye!”_ Her face froze. _“I, um…Bye!”_ She gave a curt wave and then the video cut to her usual edit, showcasing her last vlog. The end clip was short this time, just a twenty second reel of her starting to say something and nearly tripping over a small child at the airport. She laughed it off, and the sound was painful to him.

She’d accidentally said part of his outro.

Mark slammed his laptop shut, running his hands over his face. How the fuck was he supposed to do this?


	5. Don't Say Anything Stupid

She was supposed to be able to handle this. She was supposed to be able to look at his face without feeling a pain in her chest. It had been _six months,_ for fuck's sake. By now, she should've been okay. She should've been able to smile at him and let it reach her eyes. But she wasn't.

In truth, she knew it would take more time. They'd dated for three years, and if the rule of thumb with breakups had any truth to it, she'd be grieving this for a year and a half. She hoped not, but as far as things were going, she was right on schedule. She'd cried herself to sleep the night before, and she'd woken up around five a.m., much earlier than she'd have liked.

He definitely looked different than six months ago. His hair was red instead of that faded blue, and he had more facial hair. She'd have thought he was taller if she hadn't known any better - he was probably just wearing another pair of shoes with built in platforms. She didn't blame him for doing it, but it definitely amused her. Or, used to.

Her phone was ringing. (Y/N) grabbed for it desperately, hoping it was someone she _wanted_ to talk to. It was, and her face lit up when she saw Jack's face. "Hello?"

"(Y/N)! Good morning! I was wondering if yu would like ta grab some breakfast before the convention? We have a panel, bright and early." He was oddly cheery for seven a.m.

"Sure, sure," She murmured, running a brush through her hair. She was almost ready, she just needed to get dressed. "Meet me in the lobby in twenty minutes?"

"See yu then!" The line clicked.

She quickly pulled her [clothes](http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=206351085) on and made sure she didn't look like as much of a mess as she felt. Satisfied, she grabbed her Creator's Pass and her bag and set out. Her eyes hesitated on the door to Mark's room, but she forced herself to stay focused, heading promptly for the elevator. Sean was waiting for her downstairs, dressed for the convention and wearing a big smile on his face.

"Hey," She murmured, grinning. "Have a few pots of coffee?"

"Just one," He retorted, chuckling. "The hotel's coffee is disgusting and I couldn't bring myself to walk down to the cafe again."

"You're _so_ lazy." She giggled and shouldered her bag, following him out of the hotel. It was refreshing to not have to worry about being mobbed on the front steps of the building, seeing as it was 7:25. Most people weren't awake yet, save her fellow YouTubers and the stragglers headed to work.

They walked for a good five minutes before coming to a little breakfast cafe. She liked the look of it - it reminded her of some cute little hole-in-the-wall bookstore, and it had the homey feel of an old diner. The tables were a rustic, stripped wood with a mason jar of daisies in the center, surrounded by a few tealight candles.

"Is Signe joining us?" She asked as they took their seats, her eyes finding Jack's face.

He shook his head, trying to mask a yawn. "Nah, she's not with me this time."

She frowned, confused. "I thought she was coming."

"She was," Jack murmured, looking a little tired, "Something came up last minute. Don't worry, everything's alright, she just figured it would make more sense to sit this one out."

"Bummer. She's my only friend." (Y/N) took the mug greedily as the waitress set it down on the table, pressing the rim to her lips. Secretly, she was wide-awake and didn't really need any more coffee, but she didn't want to let on. Why explain her terrible mood when she could get away with acting tired?

"Hey now, I'm yur friend too!" Jack had already downed half of his coffee, which was disgustingly black.

"I guess." She chuckled, eyes scanning the menu. The waitress was back within minutes to take their order, and as she walked away, Jack watched (Y/N) carefully.

"So," He murmured, once again pressing his mug to his lips, "How are yu doing?"

She swallowed, hard. She didn't want to worry him with details of the night before, and she sure as hell felt bad enough for the nights he'd devoted to hearing her out within these last six months. She refused to add on to it. "I'm doing good, what about you?"

He sighed. "Yu know what I mean, (Y/N). Mark's staying in our hotel, and I'm sure yu've seen him at some point. How are you holding up?"

She sighed, tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I ran into him in the elevator. I'm...okay, I guess? I was doing really well, and then I saw him, and..." She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, pulling the sleeves of her jacket down. "I'm a lot better than I was six months ago."

Jack was watching her with a caring expression on his face. "And the panel?"

She froze. "What panel?"

"Our panel." Jack frowned. "Yu didn't know?"

"Know what?" Her heart was racing now, and she could hear slight ringing in her ears. "What about our panel?"

"Oh, (Y/N)," Jack rubbed his hands over his face, "Mark is going ta be on it."

She felt a heavy sigh leave her lungs. Her shoulders settled a little further than they had been before. "Oh."

"But yu don't have ta interact with him, yu know. There'll be plenty 'a us."

"No, yeah, that's fine." She was speaking quietly, running her finger around the rim of her mug. "I'll be okay. Just haven't seen him in a while."

"Are yu sure?" Jack leaned forward then, eyebrows furrowed in worry. "Yu don't have ta do this. If yu're not ready, we'll schedule the panel with other people."

She shook her head, forcing herself to take a few steady breaths. "No no, I can do it. I have to face him at some point, right?"

Jack seemed satisfied with her answer, and he sat back in his chair, arms crossed. "I wish yu didn't have ta."

"Me too."

\----------------------------

"Alright, so the panel is at nine thirty. What do yu want ta do until then?" Jack was walking a few steps ahead of her, his strides bouncy. It made her smile to see him so excited.

"I guess we should find Arin and Danny. It's the Grumps' panel anyway." She shrugged. "Just in case they have anything special to debrief us on, ya know? Knowing those too, there's probably something weird planned."

"Good point." Jack quickly veered off to the right, his eyes trained ahead on their destination: the Grump booth. She'd be spending most of her day here, not including the time she'd be doing panels and interviews and games with other creators. She was looking forward to those. Well, most of them. She was dreading this panel.

When they got to the booth, Danny was by himself, pulling some things out of a box. "Hey guys, what's up?"

"Just coming to check in. Thanks again for inviting me ta do the panel with yu guys." Jack was beaming from ear to ear. "Have anything special planned?"

"We're just gonna play some games and answer some questions. It'll be a pretty chill panel, nothing big." He looked up, over their shoulders. "Oh, hey guys!"

Jack turned around, but she couldn't bring herself to. She was scared what she'd see if she did, and if it _was_ him, she'd like to look as little as possible.

"Hey." The deep voice was a knife in her gut. "Anybody else sleep terribly last night?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'll be right back," She whispered, grasping Jack's arm firmly.

He looked at her, expression immediately contorting into concern. Danny's was too, and he'd stood, coming around the end of the table. "Wait, are you-"

"I'll be right back." She quickly shoved past him and headed into the next aisle, trying to get a steady grip on her breathing. _Yes I fucking slept terribly,_ She thought bitterly, _Staying up to watch his videos definitely didn't help._

She wasn't sure where the bathroom was, but she was determined to find it. It took a few minutes to locate the right hallway, and she was _so_ thankful there wasn't a line. Rushing in, (Y/N) shut and locked the door behind her, a sigh already hanging from her lips. She just had to breathe normally, if she could remember how to do that.

Mark watched her go with heavy shoulders, already regretting his choice of words. _You idiot._ Jack looked concerned, and Danny seemed to be at a loss for words. "Is she-"

"She's fine," Jack said curtly, turning away from the direction she'd gone. His eyes found Mark's, and he looked almost sad. "She'll be okay."

"So I guess that means things aren't as good as Arin and I had hoped." Danny sighed, running a few fingers through his hair. Arin reaffirmed his words with a short, "No shit," and headed off to find Suzy.

Mark just looked on in shock, unable to force his eyes off of the aisle she'd disappeared into. "How is she?"

Jack turned to him with a frown. "She's...better. A lot better than she was." He crossed his arms, sighing. "Yu really should think about what yu say _before_ it comes out of yur mouth."

"I know, I'm an idiot." Mark rubbed his hands over his face, trying to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. He'd been up all night watching and re-watching her videos from the last six months, trying to monitor her progression. It was been a painful process, and he'd barely touched the surface of the time's worth of videos, but he agreed with Jack. She definitely seemed better. "How does she feel about the panel?"

"About as good as yu do, I imagine." Jack was helping Danny arrange a few things on the table. "She's a little less open about it. Yu have ta ask her a direct question before she'll spill her feelings the slightest bit."

Mark nodded, familiar with the feeling. He hated to think that he was imposing and ruining the panel for her, but it wouldn't help either of them to keep running from this. They had to face each other at some point, no matter how painful it was. "She's a strong girl."

"She is." Jack looked at him then, jaw set firmly. "And she's really doing something for herself. So please, Mark, just don't say anything stupid during the panel."

Mark nodded grimly. There was a pain in his chest that hadn't been there that morning. "I won't. I've filled my quota with saying stupid things by a long shot."


	6. Be My Valentine?

"Alright, everybody! Who's having a good time?" Danny was running around the audience in a unicorn costume, his wispy hair spilling out of the hood on both sides. The audience responded to him with cheers and extended hands, but it was nothing compared to the cheer they'd received when they'd first come on stage. It had been Arin and Danny first, and then her, and then Jack, Barry, and Mark. She was grateful for the space between them. "I'd say they're ready. How about you, Arin?"

"I agree, Danny." Arin reached under the table and pulled out a little box. A giant grin split his lips, framed by eyes that looked a little too excited for the occasion. "How about some Fun-employed?"

There were a series of shouts and cheers, but the overall response was fairly positive. Danny returned to his chair as Arin began to pass around the cards, making a few childish comments about his process. Arin responded with a 'look,' dutifully waiting until he'd dolled out everyone else's cards before giving Danny any.

She laughed, listening in as they decided who was going to be the employer first. It was her, thankfully, and she sat back with a happy expression on her face. She'd played the game a few times before, and she was pretty decent at it, but judging was definitely her favorite part. "Okay," She murmured, pulling out a card, "Help wanted for a...Secret Agent!"

They waited a few minutes for everyone to pick their cards and come up with their reasoning, and then the spotlight passed to Danny. "So, I'm just going to put this out there," He murmured, a grin on his face, "But I have," He put down his card, "A British accent, as any good agent should." He grabbed his second card and turned it over. "I'm also emotionally unstable, so I promise, every mission will be a wild ride of character development and bonding." His last card hit the table. "And last but not least, I have nothing left to lose. I'm basically a freebie."

She giggled along with the audience, turning her attention to Arin, who looked a little _too_ ready for this. "I think it goes without saying that every agent should have a," He held up his card, "Million dollar smile. I also have fake teeth, so you don't have to worry about someone punching my pearly whites out. These babies are here to stay." He grinned, grabbing his last card. "I am also soulless, so you I will have no problem carrying out orders without hesitation. Soulless eyes and a charming smile, what more do you need?"

"You're good," She said, shaking her head. She couldn't help but smile - the Grumps definitely knew how to cheer her up. Turning to the right, she met Jack's eyes expectantly. "What about you, Jack-a-boy?"

"I'll admit, those two strike a hard bargain." He chuckled, staring at his three cards as if he were holding a jackpot. "But I'll have yu know that I am by far the _best_ in the business because I have been," He motioned to card number one, " _Genetically engineered_ ta be. I also have tentacles, so when hands fail or something's far away, I've got yur back." He winked. "Or if yu need entertaining. Finally," He set down the cards, "I have a god complex, so my enemies will never see through my shining confidence. I am impenetrable."

"Wow, look at you. Really giving it your all, huh?" She giggled and smacked his shoulder lightly. He was laughing like an idiot by this point, but the audience was too. "Barry? Planning to bring it home?"

"You know it." He grinned and set down his cards nonchalantly. "I won't bore you with long fancy words and false promises, (Y/N). Three words." He held up his fingers, counting off with them. "Shady, Pyromaniac, and Topless. That's all you need to know."

There were a few shouts from the audience, making the six of them burst into a series of chuckles. Barry just shrugged in that "I'm too cool for this" way he had, lowering his sunglasses over his eyes. She giggled and looked at Mark, finally, trying to keep the smile on her face. She was having a good time. This was just a game. She could do this, _really_ do this, and she was determined not to let him get to her. He seemed to be doing the same.

"Well, (Y/N), as convincing as these boys are, I take the cake." He looked down at his cards and grinned wickedly, slamming them down on the table. "One, I'm ripped." He kissed his biceps and looked out at the audience, who burst into loud shouts and screams. "Two, I'm Mormon. Every secret agent needs a good set of values. They call me Elder Fischbach."

"Oh my god," Danny said, laughing softly.

"Three, I have a dragon. They also call me _khaleesi._ " He just looked at her with a cocky smile, lowering his "Ass Ass" glasses onto his face. Barry looked over at him and held out his hand, slapping it into a highfive.

 _They are such idiots._ She giggled, shaking her head. "Well, as good as all of these were, I'm gonna have to give it to..." She shook her head and passed the card over to him, "Mark, you idiot."

"Yeah!" he took the card and held it up, a doofy grin on his face. "Agentplier!"

"I really thought the tentacles would work. What a shame," Jack grumbled, chuckling loudly. He took the box from her and pulled out a help wanted card, reading it carefully.

They played a few more rounds of it, passing it along the row, and she racked up quite a few points. She couldn't help it, she was just _amazing_ at this game. After about an hour, they decided to play one more round and then take a break to answer some questions. It was Mark's turn, and they were all trying to get a job as a Valentine. She hadn't looked at her cards yet - she was just going to look at them when it was her turn, and improv the _shit_ out of it.

Danny's application was hilarious, and Arin's was oddly...cynical? Creepy? _Stalkerish?_ Either way, the audience thought it was absolutely hilarious.

"Your turn, (Y/N)." Mark looked at her with an expression she couldn't. Yes, it wasn't pleasant to be in this situation - here she was, convincing him to be her valentine, and considering all that had happened, it definitely had not made the situation any better. They were pushing through it, though, and she knew she could change the mood of things with a quick-witted blend of her cards.

She looked down at them and took a deep breath, preparing herself to work these three together in a way that was both hilarious _and_ convincing. "Well, first, we have..." She looked down at the card on top, grinning, "Topless. What's better? I mean, come on." She giggled and flipped the second card, reading over it quickly. "I have an online personality. Wow, that's ironic." She smiled and pulled out the next card.

And felt like the floor had opened in front of her.

"(Y/N)? What's the third thing? Don't leave us hangin'!" Jack's voice filtered into her ears, snapping her out of it.

She set the last card down, "Oh, sorry. I, um...I have good time management skills."

"Oh come on, (Y/N), you can't just _read_ the cards. Roll with it!" Arin nudged her shoulder, clearly unaware of what was going on.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Oh, right, my bad." She refused to look at Mark. "Well, I'm...um, I'm topless, so that's always a plus. No explanation needed." She stared at the other two cards as if she were reading a diagnosis. "I'm an online personality, so if you think about it, your valentine is basically a celebrity. And, um..." She didn't want to say it. She _really_ didn't want to say it. "I, um, I-I have great time management skills, so I'll always, u-um, have t-time for you."

She stared down at her hands, her eyes hot. She _refused_ to do this. She'd told herself all morning that she'd be damned if she didn't have a good time, and she absolutely would _not_ let something so stupid ruin the panel for her. It was just a coincidence. It was a coincidence, but _fuck,_ was it a painful one.

Jack noticed her change in mood and immediately dove into his own explanation, skillfully capturing the audience's attention off of her. Mark however, couldn't look away.

How the fuck did something like that even _happen?_ How cruel did fate have to be to make her draw those cards? He'd seen the change on her face the second she'd seen the third card, and it had been enough to cut off his air supply. He'd never seen a face fall so quickly, and he could see how hard she was trying to keep her composure. If he hadn't known her as well as he did, he might've just thought she'd been hit with a drowsy spell. But no, Mark knew her like the back of his hand. He knew her nervous ticks, and none of them were present. No, she was in pain. _Very obvious_ pain.

He felt like an asshole. He should've turned down the invitation to do this panel. He should've just let her have this one thing. But he didn't, and here they were, both broken-hearted and waiting desperately for the timer on the panel to go down. He _wanted_ to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder, to pull her into his arms and tell her that things were okay, but he couldn't. He doubted she yearned for him anymore.

"Mark?" Barry waved a hand in front of his face. "Any lights on in there?"

"Oh, sorry." He forced a chuckle and looked down the row at them, trying not to let his eyes linger on her form. She was still staring down at her hands, and her shoulders looked a little heavier than before. "As much as this will hurt the Septiplier shippers," He sighed, shaking his head, "Danny wins! Be my valentine?"

"Always." Danny flashed a heartthrob smile and took the card, adding it to his pile. "Alright everybody, we're gonna take a break from this and Arin and I are going to answer some questions. Our lovely guests here," He motioned to the table, "Are going to take a five minute break, and then we'll all be here to answer your questions." He grabbed a mic and stepped off the stage, running down into the audience.

As Danny began to take questions and Arin stood on stage expectantly, the four of them went about their own business. She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she pushed her chair in and quickly bolted from the stage, barely managing to keep her balance. She stared at her feet the entire way down the hallway, determined not to let anyone see the hot tears streaming down her face. At one point, a staff member tried to stop her and ask what was wrong, but she muttered a polite, "Excuse me," And shuffled right past them.

She found a quiet room down the hallway from the stage and let herself in, promptly shutting it behind her. It was a lounge of some sort, but seeing as how it was mostly empty, she doubted it was being used today. (Y/N) plopped down in one of the chairs by the window and finally let herself crumble, burying her face in the valley between her knees.

Her sobs were relentless. Quiet, painful chokes of breath that racked her shoulders and flooded her eyes until she couldn't see anymore. She pressed her hands into her lips to silence herself. She didn't want anyone passing by to here her and come in. She wouldn't be able to explain.

There was a soft knock on the door. She sighed in defeat and wiped desperately at her face, figuring it was probably Jack. He'd noticed her behavior back on the stage, and knowing him, it wasn't surprising that he come check up on her. "Uh, come in!" She called, sniffling and trying to clear her throat. Even if he had noticed, she didn't want him to see her crying like this.

The door opened and closed, but she didn't turn around. "I'm fine, Jack, I uh..." She wiped at her face again, pulling her knees to her chest. "Just, um...I just-"

"I'm so sorry." Weight hit the chair next to her, making a soft rushing sound as the air left the cushion. The voice did not belong to Jack.

She sniffled and let out a bitter laugh, running her fingers under her eyes again. "It's not like you put those cards in my deck."

"I know that, but..." He trailed off, putting his head in his hands. When she finally looked over at him, he felt his heart break into a million pieces. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears, and he could tell from the redness of her cheeks that she'd already been crying when he'd knocked. "You shouldn't have had to do that."

"Tell me about it." She rested her chin on her knees and looked at him, almost as if seeing him for the first time. Something about this interaction felt very different from the last few they'd had - it wasn't awkward, it was _tired._ It was as if they were old friends recollecting and sharing with one another, and they were just _tired._ He looked about as rough as she imagined she did, and she could tell from the circles under his eyes that he hadn't been sleeping well. "Talk about fate being a bitch, huh?"

He let out a soft chuckle, leaning back in the chair. Mark's eyes left her for just a moment to gaze out the window, at the bustling city below them. "How have you been?" He asked softly, tearing his gaze away and back to her face. He hoped - _prayed_ \- she hadn't spent many nights like this.

She was quiet for a second, just looking at him. She didn't know what to say - should she give in, and tell him about her reckless, restless behavior of the last few months, or tell him what he wanted to hear? "Alright," She said finally, looking down at her hands. She fiddled with the rings on her fingers, unsure of how much to tell him. _You know him,_ She thought, _And he knows you. There's no use in lying._ "There have been ups and downs. I've been...trying, I guess? I'm happier than I was, a few months ago."

He nodded, letting it sink in. He was glad she'd been honest with him, and even though he'd already heard about her through Jack, he wanted to hear her say it. "You've always been strong," He murmured, looking down at his feet.

She smiled softly and continued to fumble with her ring, "Thanks." (Y/N) stared thoughtfully for a second before looking at him, her heart tugging at her. "How have _you_ been?"

He looked at her then, running a hand through his hair. "In all honesty?" He let out a heavy sigh. "I've been a little rough."

She nodded, chewing on her lip. "I have my nights, too." Her tears had subsided by now, and instead, a heaviness she hadn't felt in a long time had settled on her shoulders. It wasn't the same, 'I can't look at you,' heaviness she usually felt. No, this one was because the love of her life was inches from her grasp, and neither of them had the courage to reach out.

"Are you...um, seeing anyone?"

Mark's question caught her off guard, and she looked at him quickly. No, of course she wasn't seeing anyone. It had been _six months._ She wasn't exactly looking, and even if some nice guy had stumbled into her life, she didn't think she'd be able to give him the time of day. She was still hurting over _this,_ for fuck's sake.

"No," She murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "It's just me. What...um, what about you?"

He looked out the window again, trying his best to bite his tongue. He didn't want to admit to this. He felt shame settling heavily in his bones. "I have a date this weekend." The words felt like a dagger sliding from his lips.

She tried not to let her recoil show on her face. She was...shocked. _Numb._ "Oh," She said softly, struggling to keep her voice even. "Um...good for you."

He wanted to tell her how the girl didn't matter, how she was just a desperate attempt at getting (Y/N) off of his mind, but the words wouldn't come. "Thanks." Mark didn't feel like he was controlling his words anymore.

"I, um," She stood suddenly, taking him by surprise. Mark stood as well, confused. "I'm actually not feeling great." And she wasn't. She felt as though she were going to vomit. The weight of his words had hit her with added force. "Tell the others I head home early, alright? I might be back, um, later, but I-"

He could see the tears in her eyes, and he absolutely hated himself for it. "(Y/N)." He grabbed her arm, trying not to notice the way she flinched at his touch.

"No, Mark," She said quietly, sniffling. She wouldn't look at him. "You don't get to do that." She shrugged out of his grasp and took a step away, her tears falling freely now. Every step away from him felt like another tear in the seams holding her together, but she couldn't let herself give in. "You _made_ your _choice,_ you don't get to try to pick up the pieces."

"(Y/N), please-"

"No, Mark!" She finally looked at him, trying shamefully to wipe her cheeks clean. "Dammit, you don't understand what this is like! If you think for one second that I'm going to open up to you and spill my feelings, you're _damn_ wrong. Look at how it worked for me last time." She was almost angry at him, but she kept control of her tone. "If you're ready to move on, that's fine. You do that. I'm so happy for you. But I'm sure as shit not, and you don't get to play the knight in shining armor anymore."

He just stared at her. His own eyes were hot now, and he felt the full weight of his confession. He wanted to tell her her loved her. He wanted to tell her how he'd been asking about her every day for the last six months, desperate to know if she was okay. He wanted to tell her how he regretted walking out that door more than anything he'd ever regretted in his entire life. But the words wouldn't come.

Her voice was so quiet, he almost didn't hear her. "You don't understand how many nights I have _cried_ myself to sleep, because I still can't even force myself to sleep in the center of the bed, because I'm _so sure_ sometimes that you're gonna walk in the door and slip into the right side where you used to sleep. I can't look at your closet, I can't put anything on your side of the sink. I can't even fill up the fucking pantry anymore, Mark! I live in a big house, alone, and every creaky floorboard or cushion stain or even the sound of the fucking AC unit kicking in reminds me of you. You don't know what it's _like."_ Despite how angry her words should've been, she almost sounded as if she were pleading with him. Seeing her eyes glisten this way and her face pull down with the weight on her shoulders was breaking his heart all over again. "You got to walk away. It's what you wanted. I had to pick up my own pieces, and find little holes for them in the _only_ corners of the house that didn't stink of you. Do you understand what it's like to not feel whole in your own house? Do you? To stare at that half-empty bag of dog food and remember that once, not too long ago, you had someone to come home to? I know you've been hurting over this, too, and _fuck,_ I wish I could take your pain away, but don't you _dare_ try and make this any better. You can't, Mark. You just can't."

She started to turn around and step away from him, rubbing her cheeks raw, but something stopped her. Without looking back, she put a hand on the doorknob, eyes cast down at her feet. "I hope this date goes well for you, Mark. I really do. I hope she's everything you want in a partner. Because let's face it," She grabbed the handle and looked at him, trying to keep a grip on her breakdown, "I couldn't be. We both know that, and we're both still _fucking_ dealing with it. That's obvious. But I hope she is." She sniffled and stepped out. "I'll tell Jack I'm not feeling well. Don't worry about it."

She shut the door behind her, and Mark finally lost the tight grip he'd had on his own sanity. His shoulders shook with smothered sobs, his tears finally cascaded down his cheeks. He just let go. Her words had hit him like a ton of bricks, and as much as he wanted to chase her down and beg her to forgive him, he knew that she was right. He didn't get to do that. He didn't get to break her heart and then try and make it better when she was finally picking herself up again.

Mark sat there for a few minutes, letting himself feel the truth of her words, before he finally managed to dry his tears and force himself to stand. He had to get back to the panel - the 'five minute break' was definitely up by now, and if neither of them came back, he knew it would raise more questions than he cared to answer. So, wiping his cheeks and clearing his throat, Mark forced himself to face his world.

The only problem was, she'd already left.

 


	7. New Faces

She was still getting shit about missing the second day of the convention. Her fans knew something was wrong, of course, but they just wouldn't respect her privacy in not telling them about it. She couldn't. How do you say, "Your other idol is a monster"? How do you say, "The guy you all love broke my heart"? She didn't know how to put her problem into words, and though most of her fans were being patient, some of them refused to let it go.

So here she was, five months later, finally making a vlog about it. She wouldn't give any names - mainly because she choked every time she _tried -_ but she'd at least sum up her last year in the best words she could find. She owed her fans that much.

"Hey guys! I know that this vlog is a little unconventional, and by now, I'm sure you've read the title, so...here goes. My...what do you guys call it? Withdrawal?" She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. The camera was positioned a few feet in front of her, capturing her where she sat on the couch by the bay windows. The light was good here, so it was usually where she recorded videos like this. "Well, it's time I gave you all an explanation."

She was grasping for words. She really should've made an outline of what she wanted to address. "So, I know you guys have noticed my mood changes within the last year. I _do_ read the comments, and though I applaud you all for your crazy conspiracies, I have to set the record straight. No, I'm _not_ turning into some demon alter ego of myself, sadly. That would be pretty cool though."

She let out a small laugh and shifted on the couch. "About a year ago, I went through a really bad breakup. I know what you're thinking, '(Y/N), we didn't know you had a boyfriend! Who is he? Breakups shouldn't affect you this much!'" She let out a heavy sigh. "Well, M...my boyfriend and I dated for three years. We kept it super private, for obvious reasons, and we were living together."

She wasn't choking up as she would've a few months ago. No, she was getting better at talking about this now. "We met because he almost hit me with his car. Does that sound bad? Yeah, it does sound bad," She giggled softly, trying her best to keep the situation light. She would _not_ be one of those girls who cried in all of her vlogs. "Anyways, he helped me out, and we ended up really...um, enjoying each other's company. So...we hit it off, I guess."

She smiled. "So, flash forward three years later. We were living together, had a lot of plans. Life was...great." Her voice broke. She tried to clear her throat. "We got into this huge fight, one night. I don't even remember what started it. Probably something stupid. I was always fighting with him about something stupid." She shook her head. "I won't get into what was said, because frankly, I don't want to revisit that, and he doesn't deserve any backlash."

Her words were a little labored, but she managed to keep her composure. "Long story short, we didn't want the same things anymore, and he...um, he walked out on me. I know that sounds horrible, and I know you're going to think he's this awful guy, but he's not. I promise you, he's not.

"So now he has moved on, and he's doing his thing, and I'm doing mine. Those months in-between were me handling the sudden loss, and I hope that explains my mood swings. Around June, I was doing really good, but then another situation happened. I ran into him in a place I didn't expect to see him, and we had a short conversation that really didn't accomplish anything. He told me he was moving on, and I wasn't...ready to do that, yet."

She sighed, offering a small smile. "So yes, you were all witnessing me picking up the pieces of my broken heart first-hand, and I'm so sorry I never gave a proper explanation, but as you can imagine, I didn't want to post my pain up on the internet for everyone to see." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "But he and I are both in better places now, I think, and it seems like he's doing okay now, too. So I promise, from here on out, I'll be closer to my normal, happy self. I'll try my best, anyway."

She finally relaxed and let a grin overcome her lips, eyes focused on the lens. "So I'll see you guys tomorrow. Thanks so much for checking out this video, and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day. See ya next time!"

As (Y/N) got up to turn off the camera, the front door opened. She ignored it for now, already knowing who it was, and went about dismantling the stand, tucking it back where she kept it. As she scrolled through the camera glossary and made sure the video was running smoothly, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her waist, tugging her close.

"Hey sweetheart," He said, kissing the side of her face. "Recording? Isn't it past time for that?"

She nodded, turning around in his arms. She stood on her toes to kiss his chin, a smile crossing her lips. "It's an extra video. People won't leave me alone about the whole 'Mark' thing, so I summed it all up and tied it off with a neat little bow."

Elliot froze, quirking a brow. "Did you mention his name?"

She shook her head. "Nah, then they _definitely_ wouldn't leave me alone."

She watched as her boyfriend's shoulders relaxed. "Well, I got off of work an hour ago, so I figured I'd stop by to say hello." He grinned, pulling her close again.

She grinned back at him. "Hello." Before he could object, (Y/N) pulled out of his arms and headed into the kitchen, her fingers gliding happily along the counter.

She'd really considered moving for a few months there, but in the end, she hadn't been able to give up this house. Sure, bits of it still reminded her of Mark, and sometimes she expected to see him walking around when she woke up in the morning, but it was home. Besides, she had a few memories of her own here. She'd gotten a dog as well: Kodi, a sweet, two-year-old Gordon Setter with a relaxed personality and craving for personal attention. He followed her around on her heels, and she had to admit, she'd missed having a furry friend around.

Elliot watched her as she pulled out a few pans, a small smirk on his face.

"What?" She asked, catching him staring.

"You're just so beautiful." He smiled, resting his chin in his hands. "I'm so lucky that asshole dumped you."

His choice of words made her heart sting a little, but she let it pass, figuring he hadn't meant it that way. "Aren't you?" She tried to keep her voice even, offering him a pained smile. He didn't notice.

"You bet." He grinned, the expression looking a little more wicked now. "He's really missing out on that hot piece of ass."

She really, _really_ hated it when he said that. But hey, it was a compliment...right? "Sure is." She went back to pouring the ingredients in the bowl, opting for silence as opposed to instigating anymore conversation. When Elliot was in moods like this, all he did was make sexual insinuations and 'low-key jealous' remarks about Mark. She just wanted to avoid all of it.

"Well someone's in a mood." Elliot pulled out a stool and sat down, eyes trained down on his phone. "Oh, hey," He looked up then, catching her attention. "Guess what?"

She rolled her eyes, a small smile pulling at her lips. "What?" She knew where this was going.

He grinned then, dimples and all. "I love you."

"I love you too, you goober."

* * *

 **"G** et some work done, doof." Amy kissed his forehead and disappeared out the door, Chica excitedly bounding after her. 

Mark let out a soft sigh, turning back to his computer. He'd barely logged on before his Skype was ringing loudly, catching his attention. Jack's face popped up as he answered. "Hey bud!"

"What's up?" Mark minimized the screen as he went about looking through his files, figuring out what he needed to record next.

"I just got done playing with (Y/N) a little while ago." Jack sounded irritated.

"So why do you sound pissed?" Mark scribbled a few titles in his notebook and returned to the Skype call, raising a brow at the seething Irishman. "What, did she hurt your feelings?" Surprisingly, Mark didn't flinch as much at the sound of her name anymore. He was dating Amy now, the girl he'd gone on a guilty date with the same week he'd seen (Y/N) at the convention, and they'd been together for five months. He couldn't explain it...They'd just hit it off. She was quirky and peppy and so unlike (Y/N) that it had taken some adjusting.

"Because I fucking hate that guy." Jack huffed, leaning forward on his desk. "Like seriously, what an asshole."

"What guy?" Mark frowned, unsure of who Jack was talking about.

Jack just quirked a brow. "(Y/N)'s boyfriend."

"Oh, yeah," Mark grumbled, " _That_ guy." He hated the bastard, too. No matter what he, Felix, or Jack said to her, she _refused_ to acknowledge how much of a piece of shit her boyfriend was. He hadn't hit her - that Mark knew of - but he was verbally abusive, and he objectified her worse than Mark had ever seen. He was very familiar with that 'sort' of guy, and he hated to say it, but he really didn't think Elliot had any good intentions with (Y/N). "What did he do this time?"

Jack let out another huff. "We were playing Prop Hunt with Felix and Cry, and he threw a fit, like usual. He wasn't _supposed_ to come over, but I guess he figured that her 'working' meant talking ta us. I don't understand what his deal is." Jack rolled his eyes, looking pretty irritated. "What the fuck is his problem? He started calling her a whore, saying all these things about how she just does YouTube for the attention and probably cheats on him with all of us. Who the fuck even says that? Especially to their girlfriend. Christ."

Mark felt his jaw tighten. He _really_ fucking hated that guy. "What else did he say?"

Jack just shrugged. "He kept going on about how she was a whore. She tried ta ignore him, but he started getting too worked up, so she left."

Mark swallowed his anger. He pinched at the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. "I don't understand why she stays with that guy."

"Me either!" Jack threw up his hands in exasperation. "He treats her like shit, and he's a controlling ass. She can't do _anything_ anymore."

Mark grumbled his agreement. "Have you talked to her about it recently?" He'd tried, but she wouldn't take his calls. It was worse than before the convention - then, it was dead silence, and he knew why. Now, it was silence with the occasional group Skype call, and he knew for a fact that she was avoiding him. She'd said so, only without apology. He knew why. He deserved it.

"I tried, but she's delirious. She just keeps defending him, saying, 'He just gets mad sometimes,' or, 'He's just excitable. He doesn't mean it.' Bullshit. He's an ass, and she deserves better." Jack paused for a few seconds, catching his breath. After he'd successfully calmed down and returned to normal, he looked up at Mark. "How's Amy?"

Mark shrugged. "She's good. We're good, if that's what you're asking." He rubbed his hands over his face. "I met her family last month, and she met my mom last weekend."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about yur trip." Jack tilted his head curiously. "Did your mom like her?"

"Honestly?" Mark let out a heavy sigh, feeling slightly defeated. "No. She hates her. I don't know why. She barely gives her the time of day, and when Amy's not around, she just compares her to (Y/N). I don't know what to do, Jack."

"Oh, that sucks." Jack winced. "Maybe she just needs ta warm up to her."

"I hope so." Mark chewed his lip, flipping through screens again. "I'm going to ask her to move in with me."

"Oh, shit." Jack choked on his words, sending him into a fit of coughs that hurt Mark's ears. "Really? After five months?"

He nodded. "Why not? I like her a lot, and I know she wants to be more serious. I figure, what the hell?"

"I guess so." Jack looked unconvinced. "As long as yu're sure, man."

Mark nodded. He wouldn't admit it, but he didn't think _he_ was ready. Then again, he didn't think he'd ever be ready. A small, selfish part of him that he tried to push down and ignore was kind of happy his mother had rejected Amy, and though he'd never breath a word of it, he wasn't as fond of her as he had been of (Y/N). But he was hers now, and she his, and he had to suck it up an move on.

But he didn't think moving on was supposed to be so painful this far in.


	8. Ninth Wheel

It was Christmas time. Between the videos and visits and getting everything in order, she'd barely had time to stop and breathe. The week before the 25th, she'd gone with Elliot back to Georgia for a week with his family. It had been an... _interesting_ week, and though she hated to admit it, his family was full of terrible people. His dad was an asshole, his sister was arrogant, and his cousins were insane. His mother, though, was a sweet Filipino woman that was full of smiles and easily excited. Overall, she'd had an okay time. She hadn't taken him home, though. He hated her for that. 

She and Elliot had been fighting more recently, and he'd started disappearing for days at a time without word. She knew it was because he was stubborn, and any time he didn't win a fight, he'd wait for her to apologize. She'd done it to please him, at first, but now...Now she just waited, and that made him even angrier. More often than not, he stumbled angrily into her house and yelled at her for something or other, she'd lost count of the things she was doing wrong.

Jack was set to fly in today, and Felix had been in town with Marzia two weeks ago. She'd only seen them once, though - Elliot had thrown his usual fit, and when she'd tried to go out to see them a second time, he'd kept her from it. He didn't like the thought of her meeting up with any of her YouTube friends, particularly of the male specimen. She wasn't sure how she'd get away from him long enough to see Jack a few times, but she was determined to. Jack was one of her closest friends, on or off the internet. Even if she didn't call him by his real name.

She hadn't heard from Mark much in the last few months. He'd finally gotten the hint and stopped trying to call her, and last that she'd heard, he was with Amy in Cincinnati. She was happy for them; even if it made her sick to think about Amy living in his apartment, sharing his bed, she was happy for them.

As she finally finished editing yet another video and adding it to her holiday stockpile, she heard a buzzing coming from the edge of her desk. (Y/N) grabbed her phone and slid the screen to the right, bringing the top of it up to her ear. "Hello?"

"(Y/N)!" Jack's cheery voice boomed through her speakers, making her smile. "How's it going?"

"Good," She murmured, leaning back in her chair. "Finally done with my stockpile. Did you just land?"

"Nah, Signe and I have been here for a couple o' hours. I've been running errands with Mark." Jack was quiet for a second, mumbling something to someone in the background. "Are yu busy tonight?"

She had to think about it for a second. Her schedule had been so crazy recently, she'd be surprised if she wasn't. "I don't think so, why?"

"We should all hang out! Grab some dinner, downtown?" He sounded so excited that it made her smile. "Does that sound fun?"

"Who all is we?" She got up from her desk and went about straightening up her work space, grabbing trash and tucking it into the can next to her desk. Once it was clean, she grabbed the close she'd draped across her chair and put them in her hamper, and then head downstairs to make herself a little food.

"Well, yu, me, Signe, Mark, Amy, Bob, Mandy, Wade, and Molly." He was quiet for a second. She thought she knew why. "Yu could bring Elliot."

She sighed, wedging the phone between her ear and shoulder as she grabbed a plate. "I know you don't really want me to." She may have had her quirks, but she wasn't an idiot. It was obvious that all of her friends hated her boyfriend, and he hated them too. It was exhausting, honestly.

"Well, it wouldn't be fair of me ta let everybody else bring their significant other and make yu third wheel." He laughed. "Well, ninth-wheel."

She giggled softly. "How considerate of you." As she put some food on her plate, she chewed anxiously at her lip, unsure of whether or not to give in. Finally, she figured, why not? If Elliot went, he couldn't bitch about her seeing her friends, and that way, she wouldn't be stuck in her house while so many of her friends were in town. "Alright, I'll come."

"Are yu bringing him?"

"He'll bitch about it if I don't, so yeah, I am." She leaned back against the counter. "What's the plan?"

"Want ta meet up in...Hey, when's a good time, Mark?" Jack was quiet for a second. She heard soft murmuring in the background. "Is two hours good? We can meet in that one park we went to last year."

"Sounds good, Jack. I'll call Elliot. See you then!"

"Bye!" The line cut.

She finished off her food and head upstairs, dialing her boyfriend's number. She only hoped he'd behave himself.

* * *

"So he's coming, then?" Mark quirked a brow over at his green-haired companion, already regretting Jack's decision to invite the bastard _for_ him. 

Jack sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah. I'd feel terrible if she came and had ta walk around with a bunch o' couples everywhere. Especially since...ya know." Jack shrugged uncomfortably.

Mark did know. Jack didn't want (Y/N) to have to sit through one-on-one time with Amy and not have anyone there with her. He understood. "I just hope he doesn't...act like himself. Sure, I've only heard about him through you and the others, but I doubt he has any restrictions when it comes to misbehaving in public."

Jack laughed. "'Misbehaving.' You make him sound like an eight year old."

Mark signaled left, checking his side mirror to make sure he wasn't cutting someone off. "He acts like an eight year old."

Jack sighed, his face turning serious. "He treats (Y/N) like shit."

He felt his face pale a little. "What did he do this time?"

Jack sighed again, propping an elbow on the arm rest. He didn't seem like he wanted to talk about it, but when he noticed Mark's expression, he continued. "She called me the other night. She was crying and going on about how he was...well, being himself."

Mark frowned. He didn't like the thought of Elliot making her cry. "What time was it? Why was she crying?"

Jack chewed furiously at his lip. "For her, it was probably around one a.m. Apparently, she went home with him for Christmas last week, ta Georgia, where his parents live." Mark hadn't known that. "She wasn't really speaking coherently, but I guess she hated his family, said something about how they were all assholes."

 _Fitting,_ Mark thought bitterly. He switched lanes again, trying to keep from showing his dread on his face. "But why was she crying?"

"I'm getting there." Jack glanced over at him briefly before returning his gaze ahead, fiddling with his fingers. "She came back last weekend, and apparently Elliot wanted ta go meet her family, too." Jack sighed. "She didn't take him home; she said that she didn't want him ta meet her parents, and apparently he realized that. He threw a huge fit and cursed at her and broke some shit."

Mark's jaw was clenched so tightly that his teeth ached. "Is that _all_ he did?"

Jack put his head in his hands, rubbing at his face in frustration. "I don't even know. She wouldn't tell me everything. She just kept saying she was scared, and that he was so angry, and he wouldn't go home. She'd locked herself in her room and told him to leave, but he was just charging around the house 'n breaking shit and yelling at her through the door." He looked up then, at Mark. "Mark, I'm _genuinely_ worried that he's goin' ta hurt her. She's already convinced that she instigates all of his tantrums. How's she gonna defend him if he _actually-_ "

"Don't say it." Mark's blood was cold. He'd known that Elliot was an ass with a short temper, but _fuck._ To picture her sitting alone in her room, crying into the phone while her boyfriend tried to beat down the door, he...It made his skin crawl.

"Mark." Jack's voice was serious.

"I know." Mark sighed, pulling into his neighborhood. "Dammit, I _know._ We have to do something. He's going to hurt her."

Jack just nodded grimly and undid his seat belt. They seemed to be in silent agreement, though neither of them had a plan.

 

 


	9. Sniffles

"(Y/N)! Hey!" Signe enveloped her in a hug, oddly strong for such a small woman. She was smiling almost as brightly as her green-haired boyfriend, though no one could truly match his beacon of a grin.

He was next to hug her, and then the train ensued. Bob, Mandy, Wade, Molly. She hadn't even _played_ with them in a while, so seeing them in person was a gift of it's own. Even when Mark arrived, Amy in tow, she gave each of them a hug and a brief, slightly-wavering smile. As she embraced Mark, Elliot let out a loud cough and started spouting off about something, catching everyone's attention.

She was so nervous about this. It wasn't that seeing her friends made her nervous. No, it was that her short-tempered boyfriend was here, among the people she cared the most about, and she was absolutely _terrified_ that he was going to fuck this up. She wouldn't be surprised if he made them never want to speak to her again. He was _that_ much of a child sometimes.

"Let's get going, then." Signe looped her arm through (Y/N)'s and lead them off, her pace slightly faster than the rest of the group. When the two of them were a good few feet ahead of the others, Signe adjusted her glasses, looking sideways at her. "So, who's your new boy-toy?"

(Y/N) laughed. "He's not a 'boy-toy.' His name is Elliot."

Signe smiled, but there was something odd about her expression that (Y/N) couldn't place. "He's cute. Is he good to you?"

She felt her pulse jump a little, but her smile didn't falter. "Yeah, he's good to me." And he was, he just got a little over excited sometimes.

"Good." Signe studied her face for a moment. "Let me know if that ever changes. I'll have to personally fly out and kick his ass."

The two of them laughed and slowed their paces, allowing the rest of the group to catch up to them. Elliot almost immediately snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side, expression almost predatory. Ah, so it began.

They walked for a little while, chatting and joking about things they hadn't talked about in forever. She was actually having a good time, which was surprising to her. She was sure she'd be miserable by now. Elliot was being a little jealous, but other than that, he was behaving. He'd even begun to joke around with Bob and Wade. She thought that since Bob was married and Wade engaged, Elliot didn't really find them a threat. He wouldn't stop side-eyeing Mark and Jack though.

The bar they went to was nice enough. No one had really felt like going to a sit-down restaurant, and as a group, they'd picked this place instead. Mark ordered a round of drinks for the guys, even though he wouldn't be having any, and Molly ordered a round of shots for the girls.

Around three mixed drinks in, Elliot's true colors started coming out. He'd already called Jack out and told him to back off - even though Jack had only given her a _highfive -_ and his sights were set on Mark now. Every look, every mention of her name or phrase directed at her, set him off. It had _really_ begun now.

"Okay, it's time to go." She grabbed Elliot's arm and tugged gently, catching his attention.

He grumbled, shrugging her off of him. "Fuck off, I'm having a good time."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. A few of them were watching her now, so she tried to keep her voice low. " _Elliot._ We need to go. You're drunk." Truthfully, she felt a bit of a buzz herself. She'd done four shots, of what she'd forgotten, but it wasn't enough to put her in his position. No, it was just enough to take the edge off. Or, it _would've_ been, if her boyfriend hadn't decide to pull a temper tantrum out of his ass.

He glared at her then. "I said, 'Fuck _off.'_ Stop being a needy bitch."

She set her jaw in a tight line and took a step back. Suddenly, there was a hand on her shoulder, oddly warm in the cold room. "Don't talk to her like that." It was Jack's voice, thicker with his accent now that there was a little alcohol in his system.

Elliot just glared, black eyes finding Jack's hand on her shoulder. "'Scuse me?"

"Don't call your girlfriend a bitch. Don't fockin' talk ta her like that." Jack just shot back the same glare and returned to his girlfriend, who was watching the exchange anxiously. Wade and Molly were also watching now, too. Bob, Mandy, Mark, and Amy thankfully hadn't noticed - the four of them were at a booth in the corner, laughing about something Bob had drunkenly slurred.

"I'll call her whatever the fuck I wanna call her, asshole." Elliot grumbled under his breath. He reached for her wrist, yanking her closer. "Don't let him touch you. His girlfriend's sittin' right there, you whore."

She swallowed a lump in her throat and gently pushed herself out of his grasp. His grip on her wrist tightened, making her emit a small squeak. She quickly turned to face him, trying not to let her panic show in her face. "Please let go of me."

"Why, so you can go have them touch you, instead?" He shot her an accusatory glare, sipping angrily at his drink. "What, you want me to go home, and let you stay here with your friends? Take some guy home." He slammed his drink on the bar. That _definitely_ caught everyone's attention. "Not fuckin' happening."

The four in the booth were watching the exchange now. She swallowed again. "Elliot. Let. Go. Of. Me."

He just yanked her closer, so that her face was inches from his. "I said, 'Not fuckin' happening.'"

Jack was standing again then, and Mark had also taken a cautious interest. Mandy and Molly looked on with worry, and Signe looked like she was about to intervene. (Y/N) just wanted him to let her take him home. She didn't want him to do this in front of all of them. "Please, baby," She whispered, meeting his eyes, "You don't have to go. Just please let go. You're hurting me."

He listened, tossing her wrist back at her side. As he brought the glass to his lips again, his eyes slid over to the eight that were looking on. "The fuck do you want?"

Jack just crossed his arms. The rest of them looked worried. But not Mark. No, Mark was seething. "What, you think you can just act like an ass and we won't notice?"

Elliot frowned, setting his jaw. "The fuck did you say?"

Mark just glared at him. "Can you stop acting like a son of a bitch? Treat your girlfriend with a little fucking respect, would you?" He shook his head, clearly trying to calm himself down. "You didn't even have to come. But you were invited, so how about act like the adult you are and stop talking to her like that."

She froze. _Oh dammit, Mark._ Elliot's face contorted angrily, and suddenly his fingers were closing around her bicep, yanking her to his side. "Come on, _(Y/N),_ " He hissed. "We're leaving."

Mark's jaw clenched as he watched Elliot yank her along, ready to do something about it. "I think she should stay."

Elliot froze where he was. (Y/N) felt panic set in her throat. _Mark, stop. Please, fucking stop._ "Do you?" He asked bitterly. He turned just enough to look at her, his grip on her arm tightening. "Is that what _you_ want?"

She felt like a mouse. A little, meek mouse that needed to crawl into a hole and hide. "I-"

"I asked you a _fucking_ question." He turned, his other hand grabbing her other arm. Elliot shook her a little, eyes wide. "Is that _what you want_?"

Her words were failing her. As she prolonged the silence, his eyes continued to blaze, his expression growing angrier by the second. Ever so slightly, she nodded.

There was a brief lapse in time as everyone held their breath, terrified of what Elliot's response would be. She was terrified that he'd make a scene, break some things and leave her a hefty bill to take care of. Her friends? They were terrified he'd break _her._

He didn't though. Instead, he squeezed her arms and dropped them, practically spitting at her, "Fucking _stay_ here then, useless whore." And with that, he stormed out.

She just stood there in his wake, arms dangling limply at her sides. It felt like an eternity after the door closed that she waited for it to open again. Something about watching it swing on its hinges was painfully familiar to her. Why was she always watching people walk out on her?

She hadn't realized she was crying until there was a hand on her shoulder. It was Jack, looking at her with a tender expression on his face. "(Y/N)-"

"No, I'm okay." She offered a pathetic smile and wiped furiously at her cheeks. Jack sighed. Everyone else was just staring at her, mixtures of pity and worry. Mark just stood there with his arms at his sides, looking guilty. "He just drank a little too much."

Jack sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's not all it was, (Y/N)-"

"He gets like that when he drinks too much. He doesn't do that a lot." She forced another pathetic smile. Fuck, she wanted them to stop looking at her like that. Like a child that had just said something unrealistically sad for her age. "He'll be fine when he sobers up. Cranky, cause of the hangover." She choked out a laugh. It even sounded forced in her own ears. "He just...he's not like that. Normally." Her voice was betraying her. She had to stop talking.

Jack tried to say something again, but she promptly stepped away from him and grabbed her purse, heading for the door. "I'll see you guys later, okay?" She sniffled, smiling as she wiped again at her cheeks. They were all still staring. Jack looked defeated. "Have a good night. Hope I didn't ruin it." Her words were light-hearted, but her voice was shaking, and she didn't know if she'd hold it together much longer.

"(Y/N)-" Jack's call was shut off by the door swinging shut behind her.

As she stepped out into the cool night air, every seam that had been keeping her composure together tore free. The tears came faster than her breaths, and within seconds, she'd completely crumpled. Her sobs took her in big, violent rolls of her shoulders, and no matter how much she tried, she couldn't get the burning feeling of his fingers on her arms to go away.

God, they'd all _seen_ him. He never acted that way, not with people around. _Never._ She knew she'd never hear the end of this. All she'd get now would be pitiful stares and soft words of apology. Dammit. _Dammit._

She leaned back against the side of the building, hating the way the brick scraped at the fabric of her jacket. She'd have gone home, but her car was at the park, and she didn't remember which direction they'd walked here from. She probably wasn't safe to drive, anyway. If not for the alcohol in her blood, than the tears blurring her vision, hot and heavy. 

_They all saw him. They all saw what he's like. Dammit, Mark, why did you have to fucking egg him on?_ She sighed, wiping at her eyes. The tears wouldn't go away despite her best efforts. _Should've just kept his mouth shut._

"(Y/N)?" There was a soft voice from the sidewalk, calling out to her. If not for the low register, she'd have assumed it was Jack. It wasn't though.

"Why do you always find me when I'm crying?" She let out a shaky breath and a pathetic laugh, all at once. When she looked up, his fiery red hair was blurred by her tears and looked more like the glare of a street light.

Mark just strolled forward, unamused by her joke. "(Y/N)."

"Like, seriously, it's your talent or something." When he still didn't laugh, she felt herself losing her grip again. More tears came then, and before she knew it, he was enveloping her in a hug, trying to quiet her sobs. "Dammit, Mark." She breathed into his shirt, pulling back from him.

"Why are you still with him?" He asked, looking at her with a desperate look on his face. "He's terrible to you."

She shook her head, chewing absent-mindedly on her lip. "He's not so bad. He's not usually like that."

"(Y/N)." Mark sighed. "He _is_ usually like that. Maybe not so... _grabby,_ but he is that aggressive. He treats you like shit." Mark rubbed at his chin in frustration. "He's controlling and angry and...he talks to you like you're garbage. He's degrading."

She sighed. "He doesn't mean it."

"Stop _defending_ him, (Y/N)!"

The sound of Mark's raised voice made her visibly flinch. He noticed, and backed off, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry, I just...," He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I hate seeing you like this. With him. I hate to think that you're with someone that doesn't treat you like the world."

She sighed with him, crossing her arms. "I didn't take him home to see my family."

Her response caught Mark off guard. He swallowed. "I heard."

"I didn't want to." She looked up at him, eyes desperate and wide with grief. "I didn't want them to meet him. I was scared they'd like him."

"Why were you scared of that?" Mark thought he already knew the answer, and he had to admit, he wasn't very torn up about it.

"Because..." She sniffled, eyes filling with tears again, "Because I...I don't like him." She was breathing heavily now - short little quips of breath that sounded more like frightful gasps than intakes of oxygen.

Mark was quiet for a second. "Does he...hit you?"

"No, God, no," She shook her head, wiping her cheeks. "I wouldn't stay with him if he did. Believe it or not," She let out a bitter laugh, "I do have _some_ standards."

He didn't think it was funny. "I didn't mean it like that."

She shrugged. "I know you didn't. No, he doesn't. He gets a little grabby sometimes, yeah, but he's never left bruises or anything like that. He doesn't raise his hands at me." She looked at her feet, ashamed. "He's just...uh, just an asshole."

"Is that all he is?" Mark leaned back against the wall next to her, sighing. "He seems like he gets set off easily."

She nodded. "He gets really jealous. He _hates_ it if I talk to anyone." She sighed, sniffling again. "Mark?"

"Yeah?"  He looked over at her, and the sight of her face nearly broke his heart. Her eyes were glistening with tears, and he'd never seen such painful shame touch someone's face. "Oh, (Y/N)," He sighed, pulling a few napkins he'd pocketed moments ago from his pocket. "Here."

She thankfully took the napkins and used them to dab at her eyes. After she was done, she tucked them into her pocket, turning to him. "I wasn't really avoiding you, you know." She sighed. Mark just frowned at her, confused. "All of these months? Well, the first couple of months after the con, I was. But after that..." Her eyes once again found her feet. "Elliot would lose his mind every time I talked to you. He knew about us, and when he realized I was still talking to you, he...he would get so _angry."_

Mark let out a heavy sigh of his own. He should've known. "I-"

"No, it's okay. It was my fault. I should've dumped him months ago. I wanted to talk to you, I did, but-" She cut herself off, unsure of what to say. "It was just you in particular that he felt threatened by. Jack too, which I still don't understand, but especially you." She looked at him then, offering a sad little smile. "Forgive me?"

Mark felt his heart grow heavier in his chest. "Of course I forgive you, dork."

She let out a pitiful laugh and nodded, her smile a little more present. "Phew, I thought I'd have to come up with some sick plan to make up for it there for a second."

Mark chuckled, standing up straight. "Nah, don't worry about it." He turned to her. "Come on, I'll take you home." He'd taken a few steps before he realized she wasn't following. "(Y/N)?"

"I drove here." She sighed. "To the park, I mean."

He nodded, offering a small smile. "Yes, but you're a little drunk and a little emotional. You don't need to drive." He motioned for her to follow him, hoping she'd agree. He really didn't like the thought of her getting behind a wheel. "You can just come get your car in the morning. It's alright, really. I'll drop you off."

She stared at him for a moment with an expression he couldn't place. After what felt like years, she nodded, stepping forward. "Alright."

As they began the short walk back to the park where his car was, Mark watched her from the corner of his eye, secretly relieved that she'd finally come to her senses. He felt terrible about instigating such scary behavior from Elliot, but in the end, everything had worked out okay. Mark had been sure there for a few moments, though, that he was going to have to throw some punches.

"Hey Mark?" She called as they reached the park, drawing him from his thoughts.

He unlocked the car and slid into the driver's seat. "Hm?"

She joined him in the passenger seat, sniffling. "Thank you."

He just smiled faintly at her, carefully backing out of the space. "Someone's gotta have your back, (Y/N)."


	10. I Can Handle It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: This chapter includes suggestive abuse and very unhealthy relationship behavior. Please be advised.

"Thanks for the ride, Mark." She looked over at him, tugging the sleeves of her shirt down a little further. She had a few words on the tip of her tongue, none of them easy to say, but they just wouldn't come out.

He looked at her expectantly, a soft smile balanced on his lips. "No problem." He watched as she slid out of the passenger's seat, an odd feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. "Hey, (Y/N)."

She crouched down, smiling at him. "Yeah?"

"Call me if you need to, okay? If he shows up again or if he gives you any trouble from here on out, don't hesitate." Mark eased the car back into drive, his foot on the brake.

She smiled again and nodded her thanks, stepping back. "Sure thing." She shut the door with a heavy feeling in her heart. Forcing herself to turn on her heel and approach the house was one of the hardest things she'd done in a while, but she managed. With each step, her resolve strengthened.

The door was unlocked when she pushed it open, but she didn't pay much mind to it. She'd been so hectic when she'd left that she'd probably forgotten to lock it. A bad decision, yes, but she didn't mind. Kodi was nowhere in sight as he usually was, and she was a little perturbed by the fact that he didn't run to greet her. He normally did that, didn't he?

She heard barking. When she went to investigate, Kodi was whining anxiously at the sliding glass door, clearly put off by something. She froze. She definitely had made sure that he was inside when she'd left. That, at least, she knew for a fact.

Instead of calling out, "Hello?" as most horror movie victims did, she quietly let her dog inside and went for her phone. Someone had definitely been here, and she had a sneaking suspicion of just who it was. Maybe Mark hadn't left yet, and if she called, he'd-

"'Bout fuckin' time you came home," Elliot slurred from the stairway, his dark eyes boring harshly into the back of her head.

She froze, phone in hand. "Why are you here?"

"What, you don't want me here?" She heard footsteps. "Am I not welcome anymore?"

Her heart was racing. "Elliot, you're wasted. Please, get some sleep. We can talk in the morning." Her voice was timid. She was scared to look at him; he could be right behind her by now, and she'd never seen him this drunk before. She didn't know what would set him off.

"We don' have anything to fuckin' talk about!" She could feel his hot breath on her neck. It sent shivers down her spine. Suddenly, his shaking fingers were in her hair, yanking her head back. When she still wouldn't look at him, he turned her around, jaw set angrily. "Why are you so late?"

She shrunk into herself, lips quivering. "I...I'm not late, baby, it's only been an hour since-"

"Don't tell me how _fucking long_ it's been!" His breath stunk of whiskey. So he'd been drinking here, too. "Are you fuckin' stupid? You should've come home when I left."

Her voice was small. "You told me to stay-"

"And you should've been smart enough to know I wouldn't want that." The hate in his eyes was like a slap to the face. She realized with dread that she didn't recognize a thing about the man standing in front of her. What used to be a sweet, smiling face had morphed into something monstrous. His usual kind black eyes were bottomless pits, and his charming smile was twisted into an accusatory grimace. " _He drove you home."_

 _Oh, fuck._ She felt her heart skip a beat. She was in trouble. A lot of trouble. "Only because I was drinking and upset and he didn't want-"

"So you cried to him like the fuckin' attention whore you are." Elliot shoved her away, seething with anger. "Probably told him all about me, huh? How I'm so awful, how I beat you or some shit?" The look he flashed her next made her heart lurch to her throat. "You want me to give you somethin' to tell him about?"

"Elliot," She whimpered, eyes hot, "Baby, _please-_ "

"Shut the fuck up," He spat, stepping closer to her. His fingers twisted in her shirt, tugging her closer. "Shut the _fuck_ up!"

She closed her eyes and tried her best to flinch away from him, her fingers squeezing desperately at his bicep. He only tightened his grip and shoved her back into the couch, making her spine hit the bare edge in a way that made her cry out. "Please, stop," She whimpered, trying to get away from him. Her back stung, but it definitely wasn't the worst he could do. "Please, Elliot, stop-"

"Stop what?" He demanded, shoving her again. "You should be thankful I'm still puttin' up with your shit."

She tried her best to dart for the stairs, but he grabbed her by the hair again, making a painful sound claw at her throat. He yanked her back into his chest, other fingers finding her neck. "Look at you," He hissed hatefully, "Gasping for air in the dark like some motel whore." He laughed cruelly. "What a fitting title. Maybe when your stupid fuckin' channel doesn't work out, you should look into it."

She clawed at his hands, her throat tightening in a way that made her want to scream. He was squeezing her, cutting off her air supply, and she had absolutely no hope of getting to her phone by this point.

As they struggled, the sound of tires drifted through the window, followed by headlights. Someone had pulled into the driveway. Elliot cursed under his breath and released her neck, fingers still gripping tightly at her hair. Yanking her along, he made for the stairs. Kodi had returned from his venture upstairs at this point, and when he discovered the two of them, he began to growl incessantly. She'd never seen him behave this way, but she was thankful for it.

"Shut _up,"_ Elliot hissed as he passed the dog on the stairs, "Shut up!"

Quickly, he tugged her down the hallway and into the first room on the right - her recording room. The second he'd shut Kodi out in the hallway, he threw her down, eyes blazing. "Now you've turned your stupid fuckin' dog against me too?" He reached for her, but she crawled backwards, terrified gasps escaping her lips. "Come here!"

She barely missed slamming her head into her desk as she tried to avoid his grabby fingers. It seemed to devote his attention, and soon enough, a sinister grin split his face. "Look at that," He murmured, rounding her desk. His fingers traced the edges of her monitors, all three of them.

"What are you doing?" She murmured, eyes wide. She couldn't keep up with his drunken mood swings.

"This is how you talk to all of them." His eyes were dark and alight with anger. "This is how you whore around and sell yourself out to all of them." His fingers, all at once, were gripping the edge of a monitor. In one swift moment, he ripped the cables free and sent the plastic flying. It landed with a sickening crunch on the wall next to her, sending her flying into fetal position. The plastic splintered and the screen had shattered, sending small pieces of it in an arc around her. The wall was slightly dented where it had hit, and she noticed with dread that he'd pierced part of the drywall.

As she tried to call his name, beg him to stop, the next monitor went flying, this one even closer to her huddled form. This crash was louder, and he succeeded at creating a five-inch hole in the wall where the impact had taken place. She realized with dread that he was already working on the third one, but a large part of her brain was thankful that it was her computer and not her.

Meanwhile, Mark was sitting anxiously in the front seat. He'd noticed as he was leaving the neighborhood that she'd left her purse on the floor in front of the passenger seat. He knew it was important, so obviously, he'd chosen returning it now as opposed to tomorrow, but his stomach was in knots. Just driving through this neighborhood made him feel sick, and he knew it would only get worse when he went up to her house. _Their_ house.

He'd manned up and managed to get to the front door, but no one answered when he knocked. It was strange - he knew she was home, and unless she was showering or something, she'd have answered. He considered heading back and giving it to her tomorrow, but as he turned to go back to his car, he heard barking.

_She doesn't have a dog. Does she?_

He didn't think she did, but then again, it had been a while. She could've easily gotten a dog in the last year without him hearing about it. The barking sounded oddly incessant, and Mark couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. She'd always been quick to quiet Chica when she got a little too excited, so he doubted she'd let any other dog just stroll around making so much noise.

Hesitantly, Mark pushed the door open and stepped inside.

It was like stepping into his own head. It looked almost exactly as it had the last time he'd been here, a year ago. Of course, she'd added a few decorations to make it her own, and her things were strewn about in a few places, but it looked the same. Even down to the red leather couch he'd harbored for years. That made his heart ache slightly.

The barking was blended with whining now, and he could hear scratching. _What the fuck?_ Mark quickly followed the sound, finding his way to the stairs and up into the hallway. A dog he'd never seen before was trying desperately to claw its way past a closed door - her recording room. Unless she'd changed it, but he doubted she had.

Now that he was up here, he could hear angry whispers on top of the barking. As Mark stood there, there was a loud crash, and he immediately jumped to action. He grabbed the handle and ripped the door open, eyes immediately hardening.

(Y/N) was huddled under the window, arms placed protectively around her own head. There were piles of shattered plastic and large chunks of what looked to be her computer monitors on the floor around her. Elliot, in his drunken fury, was ripping angrily at the chords connecting her camera and microphone. He didn't seem to notice Mark come in.

She looked up desperately as he came to action, eyes blurred by tears. Mark was already seething, and he had a dark look in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a long time. He was by Elliot's side before she could call to him, and his fingers almost immediately closed around his shoulders, shoving him back.

Elliot, being as intoxicated as he was, stumbled, a string of drunken slurs finding their way past his lips. "The fuck?"

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?" Mark hissed, shoving him again. He'd never been so angry in his life. He didn't want to think about what she'd been enduring in the moments before he'd come in. "You _piece of shit!"_

Elliot swung a punch, and there was a sickening sound as it connected with Mark's stomach. He was only slowed for a moment before he was right back at it, his fists making their retort. He hit Elliot with such force that it sent him careening backwards, crashing into the mess he'd made of her monitors. She scooted away anxiously, backing into the corner and away from the fight.

Elliot tried to swing again, but his aim was off and Mark managed to escape the trajectory. Mark's fists hit their target that time, though, and with two loud _pops,_ Elliot hit the floor. It took both her _and_ Mark a moment to realize that he was out-cold.

She let out a shaky breath, fingers gripping protectively at her sides.

Mark just stood there for a moment, staring down at her attacker and trying to steady his breathing. It wasn't until he was no longer seeing red that he looked at her, expression immediately softening into remorse.

She choked out a sob and buried her face into her knees, shoulders shaking with the weight of what had just happened. He didn't say anything, just quickly scooped her into his arms and pressed her into his chest. He wasn't sure what to say, and she wasn't sure how to thank him.

They sat there for a few moments, both of them still in shock at it all. Mark couldn't believe he'd done that to someone. His knuckles were already bruising, and each glance at them reminded him of what he'd done. Even though it had been _duly_ dealt, he didn't like the thought of giving into violence. He wasn't a violent person by any means.

She, on the other hand, couldn't believe what Elliot had become. He was an ass, sure, and he treated her like shit sometimes, but she'd never _dreamed_ he would act so violently. Not once had she thought he was capable. Until now, at least.

Mark's chin was resting on her head. "Did he touch you?" He asked, voice hoarse.

She sighed. "H-he...no-"

" _Do not_ lie to me." Mark hated to be so gruff with her, but he needed a reason to justify his actions. Not for the sake of explaining it to other people, but to explain it to himself.

"Yes." Her voice was small and timid and sent his heart collapsing into a million pieces. "I was so scared, Mark, I thought he was going to _kill_ me." She was crying again now, and with much regret, he pulled her back, trying to assess the damage.

"Oh my god," He breathed, eyes finding her neck. There were faint traces of a hand print around her throat, and when he leaned her hair back, he realized that the place where the tips of his fingers had been were slightly purple. "Fuck."

She tried to yank her hair forward again, but the motion sent a spear of pain across her scalp. Mark noticed, and when he sat up to look at her head, he noted with much pity that a she was bleeding a little. "How did he do that?" He asked tenderly.

She let out a bitter, angry laugh. "He turned my hair into a leash."

Seeing her try and make light of the situation made his chest hurt. "(Y/N)."

She just looked at him then, eyes still brimming with tears. After a moment, she collected herself and pulled out of his grasp, moving to gather the pieces of her shattered monitors from the ground. He watched her for a moment, wanting to badly to pull her back into his lap again, but they both knew that wasn't a good idea. Instead, he helped her pick up the pieces, grabbing a trash bag from a drawer across the room.

"Dammit," She hissed, staring down at the remnants of her computer.

"I'm so fucking sorry, (Y/N)," Mark murmured, voice full of pity.

She just shrugged, shoving the pieces she'd collected into the bag he was propping open. "He didn't get to the actual tower, so it's okay." As he picked up the rest of the plastic, she examined her microphone and camera, thankful that he hadn't done any damage.

"I can help you get new monitors set up tomorrow," He offered, desperate to help in any way he could. Mark side-stepped over Elliot's unconscious body to get the rest of the pieces, finally finishing up, and set the bag down. "Better ones."

"No, it's okay," She said quietly, setting her headphones down. It looked like the rest of her computer was doing fine. "I'll probably just run out tonight and pick some up. Even if I can't score any good ones, it'll be enough until I can order some more."

"Why don't you wait until tomorrow?" He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "You need sleep, and that way I can help, so you-"

"Let's be real, Mark. I'm not going to get any sleep tonight." She offered him a sad smile and straightened up her desk, a soft sigh pressing past her lips. "Really, don't worry about it. I can handle it."

He felt his stomach sink a little. "Alright," He murmured, not wanting to push the issue. "We need to call the police, (Y/N)."

She nodded, glazed eyes finding Elliot. He'd probably be out for a while. "I know." She tucked a strand of hair gently behind her ear, forcing her eyes back up to Mark's. "I'll do it in a second. My phone's downstairs."

He nodded, chewing grimly on his lip. As they spoke, the same dog he'd seen before came bounding into the room, anxiously giving its attention to her. "You got a dog."

She smiled, patting the Gordon Setter's head. "I did. His name is Kodi. He's a babe." (Y/N) sniffled and crouched down, allowing the pup to plant kisses all over her face. With a soft laugh, she returned to her feet, fingers scratching at his ears. "Reminds me a lot of Chica."

Mark nodded, breath catching in his throat. "I can see it." The dog was excitable but gentle, as his Retriever was, and they had the same soft eyes. "He's cute."

"I sure think so." She motioned for him to follow and headed for the door.

Mark grabbed the trash bag, following her down the stairs and back into the living room. His anxious eyes watched as she grabbed her phone, calmly dialing 911. It was a brief conversation, and she gave them her address and a brief recount of what had happened. Seeing as how the situation was taken care of, they didn't keep her on the line.

As she put the phone down, she flashed him a tired smile. "They're on their way. She said I'll probably have a court case on my hands, if the reported damage is accounted for."

Mark nodded, tucking his hands in his pockets. "Listen-" His phone began to ring. He shot her an apologetic smile and pulled it out, finding familiarity in the image plastered across the screen. Amy was calling. She probably wondered where he was. Mark considered answering it, but when he thought about it, he could always address that later. He sent her to voicemail and put his phone away.

(Y/N) was giving him a quizzical look. "I'll call her back later." He smiled and head over to the couch. "May I?"

"Please." She laughed softly. "It's your couch."

Mark let out a soft chuckle. As he went to retort, he was ambushed by the cute brown pup, who immediately went about licking his face. "Hey now," He said, laughing, "That's a little forward."

"Kodi," She said softly, "Off." He did as he was told, sitting back and looking at Mark, his tail wagging a mile a minute. They were silent for a second. "Do you want anything?"

Mark looked over at her, a brow raised. "Would it be too needy of me to ask if you have any hot chocolate?" He may not have been in the house for a year, but he'd be surprised if she'd stopped buying her favorite microwave-ready hot chocolate packets. That had been a routine of theirs - she did something to it that made it taste just magical, and more nights than not, Mark would find himself begging her to make it for him. It was only partially because of how good it was, though. The other part of it was that he had loved watching her dance around the kitchen in her pajamas, humming tunes he both did and did not recognize.

She smiled sadly at him and nodded. "Of course I do, you dork." Rolling her eyes, she headed into the kitchen, her dog hot on her heels. Mark followed as well, sliding into one of the bar stools. She quickly went about getting a cup ready, and within minutes she was sliding it in front of him.

He stared at it hungrily, watching as the steam slowly drifted up from the mug's contents. "It looks amazing."

"I imagine that means you're staying to drink it, then?" She braced her hands on the counter, looking at him with a brow raised.

He brought the mug to his lips, testing the temperature. It was bearable, so he quickly took a sip, the memory of how good it was hitting him like a brick. "I wouldn't pass up your famous hot chocolate." He grinned, licking whipped cream from his bottom lip. On a more serious note, he set the mug down, looking back up at her. "I'll wait with you, until the police get here."

She nodded, beginning to prepare herself a cup. He noticed how quiet she'd gotten. "Are you okay?" Mark asked, slightly worried. He hoped she wasn't dwelling on the moments she'd endured in the last hour, but he knew that she probably was.

She looked at him over her shoulder, lips pressed into a grim line. "Mark," She murmured, seeming unsure of herself. "I...-" She looked down at her mug, and he noticed the way she swallowed the lump in her throat. "Thank you." She didn't look at him when she said it, and he knew why.

"Don't sweat it," He murmured, quickly abandoning his seat and coming around the bar, pulling her into his arms. "Anyone would have done the same thing. Don't thank me."

Where she might've argued with him any other night, she just gave in, resting her forehead against his chest. She wasn't shaking anymore, and from what he could tell, she wasn't crying. That was almost worse. At least when she cried, he knew how she was feeling. Right now? He didn't know if she was in shock, or despairing over what her boyfriend had done. It hurt his chest to think of how shitty her life was right now, when he was spending his nights with a girl that treated him so well.

"(Y/N)?" He asked, pulling back and trying to catch her gaze.

She turned away from him, silently beginning to prepare her mug again. When he realized that she wasn't going to say anything else, he returned to his seat, eyes watching her carefully. They sat like that for the next moments, in a heavy silence where both of them wanted to speak, until blue and red lights were flashing through her windows.


	11. I Feel At Fault

"So yu're alright?" Jack looked at her with such concern in his eyes that it warmed her heart.

She smiled, glancing over at Mark. He just smiled and pressed his coffee to his lips. "Yeah, I'm okay." She tucked her hair behind her ear, and Jack's eyes almost immediately widened. "Oh, don't worry about that. They're just bruises."

"Just _bruises_? Christ." He shook his head, setting his cup down. "Yu're lucky _I_ didn't drive ya home. The bastard would be dead."

She and Mark just laughed, and the three of them went back to their coffees. They were in a cafe in the main stretch of downtown LA, situated in a booth towards the back where it was more private. She sat alone, and across from her sat Jack and Mark - Jack was on the aisle, and Mark had tucked himself into the space between the back of the seat and the wall. It was still early, so not many people had stopped in. Thus far, they hadn't had any interruptions.

"Have you heard anything about the charges?" Mark looked at her, raising a brow. He wasn't wearing his glasses this morning, and she had to admit, he looked pretty nice.

She nodded grimly. "From what I've been told, it's a definite prison sentence. I mean, take your pick. Breaking and entering, assault, vandalism, intent to brutalize. He's got at least a solid ten years." She put her head in her hands, fingers pressing against her temples. She was still adjusting. "I just don't understand how I'm so fucking stupid."

"Hey now, none o' that." Jack's hand gripped her arm gently, and when she looked up, both of them were looking at her in an empathetic way. "Yu just became a victim of a bad situation.

She sighed, feeling her throat tighten a little. "I just...I thought I knew his heart, you know?" Letting out a groan, she wiped furiously at her eyes, trying to prevent what she knew was going to happen. "I didn't think he'd hurt me. Dammit, guys, I knew he was an ass. I _knew_ that, but I didn't think he'd...oh, _fuck-_ " She was silent for a second, trying to catch a hold of her breathing. She didn't want to break down right now, in front of them, in public.

"(Y/N)," Mark murmured, his hand finding her other arm. "This isn't your fault. People surprise you sometimes. Every now and then, you get a little more... _crazy_ than you asked for."

"But he made _me_ feel crazy." She looked up at them then, expression raw and vulnerable. "He made me feel like it was _my_ fault. I was in _pain._ I was so scared that I was doing something wrong, and I just..." She shook her head, looking back down at her hands. Mark's grip tightened a little, but she barely noticed. "I... _wanted_ him to everything that I thought he was. I wanted that so badly, and I could see that he wasn't, and I'm a fucking idiot for going along with it, I know that," She paused to take a breath, "But...-" She sighed. "I don't even know how to justify it. There is none. I'm an idiot."

"People make bad decisions sometimes, (Y/N)." Jack sighed, leaning forward on the table. "Yu just happened ta be one of those people. It could've happened ta any one of us. It's hard ta see the reality of your situation when you're stuck in the middle of it."

"He has a point." Mark had returned to his corner; he sat with his arms crossed, dark eyes watching her regretfully. "The problem is that he _was_ what you wanted him to be, every now and then. It's hard to see past the best bits of a person when you really care about them." Mark let out a bitter laugh. "I only wish I'd punched the guy earlier."

She let out a sniffle and a soft laugh, shaking her head. "How are the two of you so full of wisdom all the time? Seriously, it's like reading the quotes in an inspiration calendar."

The two men laughed as well, finishing off their drinks. She and Jack began to discuss what he'd done after she left last night, and Mark was trying to pipe in, when a phone went off. They looked at Mark, who sat there, embarrassed, and reached for it.

"Who is it?" Jack inquired, raising a dark brow.

Mark sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Amy." He held up a finger. "One second." The two of them watched as he slid the screen to the right, pressing the phone up to his ear. "Yeah?" He was quiet for a second. "Jack and (Y/N)." Silence. "I don't know. A few hours, maybe?" More silence. "Well, considering all that's happened, I wouldn't say that's unreasonable." Jack was frowning. "Amy, listen. I'll only be a few hours, and then we'll do something, okay? I promise." Silence. "Yes, okay. Bye."

"Is she still mad?"

You frowned, tilting your head at Mark. "Why would Amy be mad?"

He let out a sheepish smile, followed quickly by a dramatic groan. "She _may_ be a little irritated that she had to catch a taxi home last night. You know, seeing as how I waited with you." He stared down at his hands.

You froze. "You _left_ her at the bar? Mark!"

He held up his hands in defense. "Hey, I was helping you out! I didn't mean to." He sighed, tucking his phone back into his pocket. "I don't think she likes the idea of me spending a few hours alone with you, in the house."

Jack's frown deepened. "She's worried about _that?_ Seriously?" He shook his head. "(Y/N) was assaulted, for fuck's sake."

"I know that, I tried to explain it that way, but she was drunk and salty and wouldn't hear me out." Mark rested his chin on his hands, looking at her.

She let out a small laugh. "So now she's hungover and salty? Even better. Good luck, pal." She finished off her coffee, giggling as Mark stuck out his tongue at her.

Unknown to them, Jack was watching on with a small smile. He'd missed this - the two of them, speaking to one another and acting like old friends again. Whenever they'd been together, just being in their presence had been enough to make someone grin. After they'd broken up, he'd spent months torn between the two of them, always relaying messages about the other back and forth. He and Signe had shared many long conversations about a 'game plan,' and at one point, his loving girlfriend had even planned to try and get them back together.

He hated to see (Y/N) this distraught, yes, and the thought of Elliot touching her in that way was enough to make Jack's blood boil, but maybe some good was coming of this situation, too. After all, she and Mark were talking again, and right now, they were even acting as they had years ago. Even if there was no hope for them in the future, though Jack doubted that, he at least wanted them to be friends with one another. Not just civilized, but _friends._ Mark without (Y/N) was an annoying, whiny prick, and (Y/N) without Mark was a reckless, nervous little girl. Together, they were actually pretty great people, even if that didn't mean _together_ together.

"Jack?" She was waving a hand in front of his face. "Hello? Earth to lettuce head."

He laughed, shooing her hand away. "What?"

She grinned, glancing over at Mark. "Markimoo and I were talking about grabbing some breakfast. I'd ask if you're in, but your stomach answered that question a few minutes ago." She giggled.

Mark's heart tightened a little at the use of his nickname, but he let it roll of his shoulders, eyes on his Irish friend instead. "What d'ya say, Jackaboy?" He slung an arm around his shoulders. "Hungry?"

"Starving." Jack grabbed his mug and slid out of the booth, Mark and (Y/N) shortly following suit. "Where to?"

"IHOP. Duh." (Y/N) pulled her hair out from behind her ear, once again covering the bruises on the sides of her neck. "As long as the two of you promise to _behave._ " She pointed accusatory fingers at them, grinning.

Jack grinned, and Mark placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. "Me? I do nothing but."

"Uh huh, sure. Keep telling yourself that." She laughed and pushed the door open, stepping out into the cool LA morning.

Jack followed, but as Mark went to as well, he felt a buzzing in his pocket. His phone was ringing again. Pulling it out, he studied Amy's picture for a few seconds, chewing on his lip.

"Mark? You coming?" (Y/N) had cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling at him through the window. Jack was just waving his arms and giggling like an idiot.

He smiled at her, nodding, and hit decline, quickly rushing out after them.


	12. Still Fiesty As Ever

"Jack?" She looked at him with a brow raised, an expression that Mark knew meant she was about to ask a question she already knew the answer to. "You have to go, don't you?"

He lifted his hands in defense, carefully gripping his phone in one palm. "Signe wants ta have breakfast with me, and she's not feeling up ta comin' out with us. Ya know, hungover and whatnot." He flashed them a boyish smile, shrugging. "We can meet up again in a bit. There's no reason the two of ya can't still grab breakfast."

Mark looked at her, feeling a little more on edge than before. Truthfully, he did want to have breakfast with her, and he wasn't _that_ upset about the fact that they'd be doing it alone. On the other hand, he'd already spent most of the night with her, and with each growing moment, he was getting more and more confused.

She just smiled, waving at the green-haired little man. "Alright, then. We'll catch up later, yeah?"

"Sure thing!" Jack grinned and started off in the other direction, already pulling up the Uber app Mark had convinced him to get on his phone. He was lucky he'd figured it out - it was a long walk from here to the hotel he and Signe were staying at.

"So," (Y/N) said, turning to him, "I'm in the mood for some breakfast-themed pastry dishes, and there's this place I know of that sells some pretty good ones." She flashed that knowing smile again, tucking her hands into her jacket. "You down?"

He grinned, knowing the exact little cafe she was talking about. "So down."

 

* * *

 

 

"No way!" She finally looked up from her phone, a giant smile on her face. "Even the lighting is perfect. That's so crazy."

"What are you talking about?" He raised a brow at her, tearing off a piece of one of the pastries they'd purchased. Instead of making two orders, they'd just bought a plate of them and two coffees, seeing as how they wouldn't be able to finish them individually anyway.

She held her phone out to him, revealing a picture he hadn't seen in a long time - it was him, well, a younger version, sitting in the same chair, at the same table, but a few years ago. He looked so baby-faced, with his old glasses and faux-hawk haircut. She was right, though. The lighting in the picture and the current lighting in the building were ironically close. "That is crazy."

She laughed softly, a sound he'd been hoping to hear for hours. "Okay, hold still. Pose like you are in the picture."

He raised a brow, but did as he was told, sipping softly from the rim of his mug. She aimed the camera at him and held it for a second, before lowering her phone, thumbs already tapping away dutifully at the screen. After a few seconds, she let out a satisfied sound and held up the screen, showing him a side-by-side comparison of the two. It was striking, really, the difference between him then and now. Then, he was fresh-faced and so full of hopes and ideals, smiling thoughtfully at the woman in front of him. Now? He was gruff-looking, with bags under his eyes, smiling at memories with aforementioned woman. 

"You should post that," He murmured, chuckling.

"And get our fans all riled up?" She laughed, shaking her head. "God forbid you throw the shippers any sort of line."

Mark just shrugged, making a 'whatever' face. "Screw 'em."

"If you say so." She smiled and fiddled around a little more, before setting her phone down and smiling up at him. "There, tagged and posted."

Sure enough, his phone vibrated, and the screen lit up with instagram notifications. "Jesus, already?" He chuckled, locking his phone. "They sure move fast."

"They do." She tore off another piece of pastry, chewing thoughtfully on it. After she finally finished, she crossed her hands over one another, looking at him. "You'll never guess who I ran into the other week."

"Who?" He looked to her, intrigued, and shoveled half of a pastry into his mouth.

"Jesus, Mark, manners." She giggled, covering her eyes. " _Anyways,_ I was downtown checking out some stuff in one of those super generic "we sell nerd stuff," kind of places, ya know?" When he nodded, she continued, "So I was walking past the comic book aisle, and I saw a familiar mop of black hair surfing through some of the clearance stuff." She looked so excited, Mark almost laughed. "It was Tom! I didn't know he was in town."

"Yeah, he was in just for the weekend. Had some meetings about his comics and decided to spend some time with his little brother." Mark grinned, chuckling. "Did you say hello?"

"Yeah, we talked for a few minutes. He seemed so thrilled to be out in LA for his work, that must be so big for him."

"It is, he's really pumped." Mark had to admit, he was really proud of his older brother. "He deserves it, Tom works so hard."

"Reminds me of someone _else_ I know." She rolled her eyes, smiling. "Does workaholic run in the family, or is it just you two?"

"It's in my genes." He grinned, flashing a kissy face at her. "It's cool that you got to see him though. You guys always got along pretty well. I'm surprised he didn't mention it, though."

She just shrugged, taking another sip from her coffee. "How's momma Fischbach?"

"She's good, really good. Still as feisty as ever." Mark smiled, trying not to think about how much of said feistiness had been aimed at his new girlfriend. "She wants to fly out sometime soon, once things cool down back in Cincinnati. Her house is always pretty hectic around this time of year."

"It's cause she's so popular." (Y/N) laughed, shaking her head. "I miss the little woman. Tell her I said hi, would you?"

Mark frowned. "Why don't you just call her?"

She shrugged. "That wouldn't be... _weird_ for you?"

He shrugged as well, smiling. "Nah, you've known her for so long now. Besides, she loves you. She'd probably love getting a call."

"If you say so." (Y/N) smiled - he could tell that the prospect of getting to talk to his mother was actually making her happy, even if she wouldn't let on so openly.

"How're your parents?"

"Good, a little frustrated that I didn't come home for the holidays, but I guess they can join the club." She let out a bitter laugh, looking down at her hands. "I told them I'd come visit soon, though, so they shouldn't hold it against me."

"That's good. I'm sure they just miss you."

"Yeah." She rubbed her hands over her face, sighing. "I'm really not looking forward to making a video about this."

"About what?" Mark frowned, confused.

She motioned to her neck, sighing again. "This, last night, why we're hanging out again. I feel like my community is worried that I'm careening over the edge."

"Then don't make a video." He shrugged. "You don't have to share _everything_ with them. Hell, that video about us was personal enough."

She looked up then. "You saw that?"

Mark nodded, slowly. "Yeah, it came up in my suggestions." A white lie. It wasn't _untrue,_ but he wasn't about to let her know that it was because he watched all of her videos, still. "I appreciate you being vague, for my sake. Your fans can be vicious when they feel like you're being attacked."

"I'm sure you'd take it like a champ." She grinned, shaking her head. "Most of them knew who the 'guy I used to date' was anyway. Shit, anyone with a Tumblr or Twitter has seen our tag at some point." Rolling her eyes, she looked back to him, smile still present. "I just felt like I owed them something, ya know? I neglected my channel for so many months."

"You were going through tough shit, I'm sure they understood." He sighed. "Still, I appreciate you not wiping my name through a shitstain."

"You're welcome." She smiled, scooping up all of their trash. "Well, we finished our pastries. Have any places you'd like to go?"

"I guess we should call Jack and the rest of the gang and see about meeting up, maybe?" He shrugged. "I know the others want to see you. They're worried."

"So what, you're not only going to subject me to ninth-wheeling, but _pity stares_ too? Come on!" She rolled her eyes dramatically, before shrugging off the expression and smiling. "Just kidding, I'll be fine. After last night, ninth-wheeling seems like a piece of cake."

Mark just laughed, grabbing his coffee. "I'll give them all a place to meet up."

 

 

 

 

 


	13. Tired of This

Amy was giving her the cold shoulder. But it was the weird kind of cold shoulder, where she would acknowledge her and talk to her one moment, and then act as if she'd stopped existing the next. (Y/N) could tell that it was probably her trying her best to be civil - she was a nice girl, and (Y/N) couldn't imagine it was easy for her to have to deal with Mark's "super-serious" ex suddenly being back in the picture, to say nothing of the fact that he'd spent all morning and the majority of the night before with her. Sure, the circumstances had been out of the norm, but it still probably called for a little irritation.

She was also going out of her way to keep (Y/N) away from Mark, in the most subtle ways possible, and it was starting to get on her nerves. For god's sakes, she'd just been assaulted by her boyfriend the night before - she wasn't exactly _on the lookout,_ and even if she were, it sure as hell wouldn't be for Amy's boyfriend, right in front of her. (Y/N) wasn't that type of girl.

So, when Amy suggested that they all go to the pier, (Y/N) started to get a little uneasy. Sure, it was all in good fun, but the pier was the place to go for young, very-in-love couples, of which she were not. For the eight of them, it would probably be a great time, but for (Y/N), not so much. Ninth-wheeling hadn't been so bad for the majority of the day, seeing as how Mark, Jack, and Signe went out of their way to include her, but the pier would be a different story. So when they finally arrived, after all piling into two cars, she felt nerves settling hard into the pit of her stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

You tried it out, truly, but it was only minutes before you were already feeling lonely. Jack and Signe stopped to play what they called "Super-Americanized" carnival games, and Bob, Mandy, Wade, and Molly all rushed off to the ferris wheel, leaving you alone with Mark and Amy. Talk about awkward. Amy was very excited about being there, going on and on about how pretty everything was and how the holidays made her so sappy, and you had to admit, she was kind of adorable.

Either way, you were starting to feel really shitty. "Hey, guys," You said, catching their attention. Jack and Signe were just a few feet away, shooting pellets at little targets. This was their third try, and after this, the five of you were going to go catch up to the rest of the gang.

"Yeah?" Mark asked, his gaze focused down on his phone. Amy had an arm around his torso, trying to keep herself warm. It was cooler tonight, and she'd been a little under-prepared with her dress. You couldn't blame her - the weather forecast had been much warmer.

"I think I'm gonna head home." You tried to say it without sounding like you were complaining, but your voice faltered a little.

That caught Mark's attention. "What?" He asked, looking up at you, "Why?"

"I just don't want you guys to have to worry about making sure I feel involved," You mumbled, shrugging, "Besides, it's been a long day, and to be frank, I kind of feel like shit." Despite your best efforts to let out a light-hearted laugh, your mood was getting as dark as the night sky. You'd been through a lot of stress in the last 24 hours, and the composure you'd had this morning was crumbling. "Besides, I need to film that video I told you about this morning."

Mark frowned, crossing his arms. "And I told you that you shouldn't. Don't put so much stress on yourself."

"Too late." You let out a bitter laugh, shoving your hands into your pockets. "I still have to go look for more monitors, and I just...I don't know..."

"I get it." He nodded grimly, sighing. "I can take you home really quick." Mark started in the direction of the parking lot, which you quickly called to a screeching halt.

"No!" You said, a little too forcefully. "Please, don't. I don't want to pull you away from this any more than I already have. I'll take an Uber, don't worry about it."

Amy was watching you with a frown on her face. Despite her odd behavior, you knew that she was still a kind person, and was probably just as worried about you as the others. "Are you sure?" She asked softly, "We really could just run you home really quick."

"I'll be fine." You smiled. "Tell the others I'll see them later, okay?" And with that, you pulled out your phone, heading briskly for the parking lot. You knew what you'd really be doing all night - breaking down, picking up the pieces, trying to figure out what the _fuck_ had gone in your life. Thinking about Elliot. Thinking about Mark. Thinking about what a fucked up world you were living in. No doubt, you'd shed a few tears tonight. Maybe, though, you'd be able to get a few hours of sleep. Probably not.

* * *

There was something painfully familiar about watching her leave. Something about the sound of her voice, how she was obviously trying to hold it together. Even right down to the, _"Tell the others I'll see them later, okay?"_ It all reminded him of that confrontation they'd had months ago at the convention, when she'd walked out on him, bitterly asking him to tell Jack she'd see him later. That had been entirely his fault.

Of course, this kind of felt like his fault too.

Mark should've known better than to agree to go to the pier. She seemed as though she'd done fine with the eight of them for the rest of the day, having lunch and walking around downtown Los Angeles, but this was a different story. 99% of the people here were couples, or hoping to be, and he could easily see how she'd be swallowing her words.

"Where'd (Y/N) go?" Jack reappeared with Signe in tow, who was holding a giant stuffed animal proudly in her arms. A cat, with fluffy gray fur and bright blue eyes.

"She wanted to go home. Said she had some other stuff to do." Amy responded for him, but her eyes were on his face. "We offered to take her home, but she said she'd take an Uber."

Jack scoffed, frowning. "(Y/N) doesn't take Ubers. She thinks they're sketchy as all hell. Refused ta get in one with me last time I was here." He looked at Signe, and then Mark. "Ya don't think she walked, do ya?"

"Surely she wouldn't be that stupid." Signe was frowning deeply now, too. "It's 10 pm on a Friday night in Los Angeles. I live in Ireland and even I know that's a terrible idea."

"Shit," Mark cursed. rubbing his hands over his face. "I'll-"

"I've got this one." Jack looked at Signe, who nodded to him. "You guys go catch up with the others, I'll see if I can catch her before she leaves. It's only been a few minutes, right?"

"Yeah, about five," Amy said, sounding worried.

"I'll bring her back, and then we can take her home, ya?" Jack gave them a nervous smile and jogged off in the direction she'd gone, pulling out his phone. He immediately found her contact, pressing the little green icon to call her. It rang a few times, and just when he thought she'd let him go to voicemail, the rings cut short.

" _Hey, Jack_ ," She mumbled, her voice sounding slightly strange.

"Where are ya?" He asked softly, starting down the long boardwalk - the parking lot was still a distance away, and he'd have to hurry if he was going to make it to her.

" _I didn't leave,_ " She muttered, sniffling. Was she crying? " _I'm out on the pier, past the ferris wheel. You'll see me, I'm the only one down here."_

"At the end?"

" _Yeah, out on the deck._ "

Sure enough, when he finally made it down there, thanks to his quick pace and hasty strides, he could just make out a dark figure sitting over the edge of the pier. She was by herself, as she'd said, but he couldn't help but worry about how dangerous it was for her to be out here alone, so far from everyone else.

"What are ya doin out here by yurself?" He asked, tucking his phone into his pocket and crouching down so that he could take a seat by her side. Their legs dangled off of the edge of the pier, suspended in the air quite a ways above the dark ocean surface, invisible to him in the low light. "It's dangerous."

"I know," She said softly, looking down at her hands. "I had my phone out, I would've been okay."

"What were ya plannin' on doin when ya wanted ta leave for real?" He asked, looking over at her. She wouldn't look at him.

(Y/N) shrugged, sniffling. "I guess I could've called a taxi."

"(Y/N)," He sighed, fumbling with his hands, "I know you've been under a lot of stress lately, but-"

"Stop." She tucked her hair behind her ear, looking over at him. Even in the low light, he could see that she'd been crying. Jack's heart sank. "Don't give me the pitiful, 'look after yourself' talk. I wasn't going to jump in or anything, I just wanted to sit out here for a few minutes." She sighed, looking back down at her hands.

She'd never seemed so small to him. "(Y/N), you're shaking," He murmured, slinging an arm around her. Where it might've been weird for Bob or Wade, he'd embraced her enough times to do it without the awkwardness. Besides, they'd always been strictly platonic, and anyone who knew their friendship knew how much of a sister she was to him. "Why did ya want ta leave?"

"Well, as much as I've loved spending time with you guys," She laughed, "Being here alone was really starting to bum me out."

He nodded grimly, sad that he understood what she meant. It really had been a bad idea, asking her to come along and 'hang out' as the rest of them enjoyed time with their significant other, seeing as how not only had her former been a piece of shit, she'd lost him in a particularly alarming set of circumstances less than twenty four hours ago.

"I'm just so tired of this, Jack," She mumbled, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Of what?" He glanced over at her, frowning.

"All of it." She made a motion with her hands, sounding frustrated. Not even that, just...downtrodden. _Defeated._ "I feel like every time things start to click together again, it all comes crumbling down around me." She shoved the heels of her palms into her eyes, clearly trying to combat more tears. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I just want things to make some fucking sense for once, you know? I don't understand why things can't just be simple, at least one time. There's always more to it. I'm always fucked over or made a fool of. I'm tired of it."

Despite the angry meaning of her words, she just sounded sad. Quiet, too quiet for his taste. "As cliche as it sounds, that's life." He let out a bitter laugh, looking out at the water. "It beats the shit outta ya time 'n time again, and expects ya ta keep getting up. Ya just have ta do it."

"Sounds like it's really worth living, huh?" She sighed, quickly looking his way. "Wow, that sounded way more dramatic than I meant it to. Don't worry," She waved her hands at him, eyes wide, "I'm not thinking like _that_ or anything, I'm just...tired of being disappointed, I guess."

Jack let out the breath he'd been holding, relieved that she wasn't stuck in that frame of mind. "And you should be. You more than anyone get too much shit."

She rested her chin on her fists, sighing again. "I'm pretty sure Amy hates me."

"She should," Jack said simply.

(Y/N) looked up at him, frowning sharply. " _What?_ Why would you say that?"

"Because her boyfriend is in love with ya, and she knows it." With that, he stood up, offering her a hand. She took it, still frowning. "Now come on, let's get ya back ta the others, and we'll see about takin ya home a safe way."

She nodded, linking her arm through the crook of his elbow. "What do you mean, " _Her boyfriend is in love with you?_ ""

Jack shrugged. "Ya don't seriously expect me ta believe that Mark's completely moved on from ya, right?" When she didn't say anything, he sighed. "(Y/N, do ya have any idea how crazy that guy used ta be for you? Those kind of feelings don't just go away. I'm not really convinced that they even lessened. Yours, either. I think you're both tryin' ta deny that you're still hopelessly in love with each other."

She scoffed. "Alright, 'matchmaker Jack,' where the hell is this coming from? He has a _girlfriend,_ and she's _here._ "

"So?" He rolled his eyes. "I said it months ago, and I'll say it now. I'm tired of seeing the two of ya hurt over one another. I wish ya would just sit down and talk ta each other, ya know? I really think the two of you had something."

"Like I said, where the hell is this coming from?" They were getting close to the ferris wheel, and she pulled him to a stop, clearly trying to pry answers out of him before they joined the others.

"The two of ya have been so happy lately, and I'm fully convinced it's because you're finally talkin' ta one another again. I've been watchin' the two of ya interact over the last couple of days. You've been actin' like ya did before."

She sighed, taking in his words. She didn't know if she'd say she'd been _happier,_ considering what she'd gone through the night before, but it was nice to talk to Mark again. If nothing else, he knew her better than anyone else, and having him as a good friend was better for her than nothing.

It was a few minutes of silence before they finally found the others. Bob, Mandy, Wade, and Molly were just coming off of their second ride on the ferris wheel when she and Jack arrived, and Mark instantly hopped down her throat.

"Are you okay?" He blurted the second he caught sight of Jack, with her in tow. "Did you seriously try to walk home?"

"What? No," She said, laughing softly, "I'm not an idiot. I took a few minutes to sit on the pier. I was only out there for a minute or two before Jack came along, I'm fine."

Mark sighed, and Jack could see how relieved he was. "Do you still want to go home?"

Jack could tell she felt bad about it, but she nodded, offering a nervous smile. "Yeah, I really need to catch up on my sleep. I didn't sleep at all last night."

Mark laughed. "Knew it." Mark looked at the others, who were already nodding. "Well, everyone's about ready to turn in anyway, so I'm gonna drop you off, and the others are just heading back to their hotel." He turned to Amy, kissing her cheek. "I'll see you back at home, okay?"

She nodded, though reluctantly, and offered (Y/N) an uneasy smile and wave. "See you tomorrow, maybe?"

Jack watched as (Y/N) nodded, flashing him a quick look. "Yeah, we might get together again. We can talk about it in the morning, it's up to these guys." With that, she and Mark started down the pier, leaving the rest of them to figure out how they were going to crowd into the car Bob had rented. They'd manage, but it would be tight.

Signe turned to him then, whispering, "How's she doing?"

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, adjusting his glasses with his free hand. "Alright. She's worn out, and she should be. The poor girl is always goin' through hell."

Signe nodded in agreement, frowning. "Did you talk to her about Mark?"

He grinned. "Ya bet I did."

 

 

 


	14. And She Should

Mark was quiet for the first few miles. It was only about twenty miles to the Santa Monica Pier from her house, but the traffic was awful even at this time - though better than normal - which turned it into a half hour drive. It wasn't awkward for either of them, but there was an unspoken tension in the tight air between them.

"So Jack talked to you?" Mark asked softly, bringing the car to a slow stop as the traffic slowed on the interstate. He turned to her, looking rather grim. "I mean, you guys were gone for a long time, so I imagine he talked to you."

"Yeah, he talked to me," She murmured, tugging the sleeves of her sweater further down on her arms. She crossed her arms, sliding down a little in the seat so as to get more comfortable.

Mark glanced at her expectantly, moving forward about ten cars' length in the lane. As the car came to a stop again, he sighed, letting out a long, heavy breath. "Are you okay?" His tone was blunt, almost blurted from his lips, as if he'd been convincing himself not to say it and had failed.

"Yeah," She said softly, looking down at her hands. "Just...tired, that's all."

"Tired?" He asked, raising a brow. A sad smile pulled at his lips, knowing what the answer to his next question would be already. "Physically, or emotionally?"

She sighed heavily then, glancing over at him. "Both, I guess." (Y/N) was quiet for a second, pondering just what to say to him. Mark could tell he was walking in fragile territory. "Like I told Jack, I'm just tired of being disappointed."

Her words hit him like a brick. "I'm sorry," He murmured, relieved that the traffic took that opportunity to kick up again, giving him a perfect window to rev the engine in the place of a response.

"Me too." She was oddly quiet, and it worried him. As he pulled off the interstate, Mark kept glancing at her, wondering why she wouldn't look at him.

"What did Jack say to you?"

"A lot of things."

"Yeah, but what about us?"

That caught her attention. She lifted her head, frowning in his direction. "What do you mean?"

Mark shrugged, checking over his left shoulder before switching lanes. "All I know is that you disappeared, Jack went after you, you both were gone for a long time, and now you won't look at me. Either he said something to you, or I did something wrong and I'm too much of an idiot to realize it, but I've gone through everything I've done all day and it doesn't seem like it's the latter."

(Y/N) sighed, staring out the window as he turned into her neighborhood. "Mark-"

"No, (Y/N)." His eyes desperately looked for her mailbox, finally locating it further down the line, after a sharp right turn and a bend in the road. "Things are just starting to be okay again. I don't want you to give me the cold shoulder because Jack couldn't keep his thoughts to himself." His eyes took a desperate look to them, bearing his thoughts to her in the most vulnerable way he could. "Whatever he said clearly shook you up a little. Please, enlighten me."

Instead of answering, she opened her door, slipping out of the car. Mark sighed, shoving his own door open. "(Y/N), don't do this," He murmured softly, desperate for her to just _answer_ him. This situation was also familiar, and with it came a pain in his chest that he hadn't felt in over a year.

She avoided him still, using her key to get the door open and stepping inside. She didn't close it behind her. "Well?" She asked softly, looking so exhausted that he'd have thought she _was_ just tired, if he hadn't known better.

"What?" Mark asked, confused. "Are you going to tell me?"

"Well, I didn't slam the door in your face, and I'm inviting you inside, so I imagine so," She snapped, motioning for him to enter. The second she shut the door behind him, she sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just cracking a little under all of the pressure."

He followed her into the kitchen, hands in his pockets. He wouldn't let himself look around, as he had last time. "(Y/N)?"

She nodded, making a motion with her hand. "Want a hot chocolate?"

He sighed, taking a seat at the bar. "Sure, if it means you'll stop avoiding my question."

She nodded again, grabbing two mugs from the counter. She went about preparing it as she always did, but halfway through mixing the hot chocolate with the warm milk, she stopped, setting down the package. "Amy hates me, doesn't she?"

Mark nearly choked on his surprise. "Where is this coming from?"

She sighed, beginning to mix the drinks again. "I can just tell."

"Does this have to do with what Jack said to you?"

"In part. I asked him if he thought so."

"And what did he say?" Mark watched her face as she handed him the mug, trying to gauge the state she was in, but her expression was blank. She really did look tired, both physically and emotionally, and Mark felt guilty for prodding her like this, but he needed to know.

"He said she should." She said it plainly, as if revealing something Mark should've known, but she didn't seem as convinced as she sounded.

Mark scoffed, "Why is that?"

She took another sip, looking hesitant. He could tell that this is where the conversation had turned, and it was exactly what he was looking for. (Y/N) sighed, setting her mug down, "Well...Jack, um..." She looked down, frowning, "Promise not to freak out?"

"I promise, (Y/N), just tell me." Mark was watching her intently now, desperate for her to get to the point.

"Jack said that he thinks Amy should hate me, because you're still in love with me."

That time, he did choke, but on his hot chocolate rather than his words. (Y/N) handed him a napkin, wincing, unsure whether she was cringing more to what she'd had to say or his reaction to it. "He _what_?"

"He told me that he doesn't think you ever stopped being crazy about me, and he doesn't think I ever stopped either." She was saying it all quickly, in one breath, as if she was terrified of not getting it all out. "He thinks we've been happier since we've started talking again, and he said he wishes we'd just sit down and talk to each other, because he thinks we really had something. He thinks we're starting to act like we did before...ya know, all of this."

Mark was silent. She felt her nerves eating away at her, anticipating his reaction. She wasn't even expecting anything...or was she? She couldn't tell if she was more terrified of him getting mad at Jack or rejecting what he'd said.

Finally, he looked at her, opening his mouth as if he was about to say something, but closed it just as quickly. He pressed the mug to his lips, still looking at her, and took a long sip. He didn't know what to say, and though he hated to admit it, Jack wasn't _entirely_ wrong. He had been happier with her around again, and he couldn't confidently say that he'd ever gotten over his feelings for her. Something about knowing he'd see her improved his mood by a tenth-fold, and the thought of Elliot - or anyone, rather - hurting her as he had made his blood boil hotter than it had for anyone else.

"I'm...not really sure what to say," Mark murmured, "So that's why you wouldn't look at me."

She sighed, resting her head in her hands. When she didn't respond, he looked up, and saw that her shoulders were shaking. His heart sank, every word he'd been thinking lurching to the back of his throat with reckless abandon. He wanted to embrace her, and though the little voice in his head told him it was a bad idea, he did. He reached out, pulling her abruptly into the fabric of his sweater, holding her face gently against his shoulder.

"Shhh..." Mark murmured softly, fingers brushing the back of her head. Despite the movement in her shoulders, her sobs were silent, and it pained him to think that he'd never of known she was crying if he hadn't looked up at her.

Finally, when her shoulders stilled and her silent sobs descended into quiet hiccups, she pulled back, wiping at her face. "Jack thinks Amy hates me because she knows it, too."

Mark sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "God, this is all so _fucked,"_ He cursed, shaking his head.

She let out a bitter laugh, but it was more of a hiccup. "Tell me about it."

Mark glanced up at her, chuckling a little. "Your face is so red."

She rolled her eyes, lifting her middle finger at him. "It's been a rough few days, okay? You've seen me ugly cry, this is nothing."

"I hate seeing you cry at all." He put his hands on her shoulders, expression softening.

She was quiet for a second, looking up at him. "Mark?"

"Yes?" He tilted his head a little, curious.

"Can you honestly tell me, looking me in the eyes, that Jack is wrong?" The look on her face was impossible to place. He couldn't tell if she was hopeful for his answer or frightened.

Mark swallowed harshly. "No, I can't."

She nodded, the answer washing over her face and shoulders. He still couldn't place how she was feeling, and he sure as hell couldn't begin to place what she was thinking. "Mark, I-"

He didn't wait for her to finish. Instead, he closed the distance between them, sliding his fingers under her chin and bringing her lips up to his. Much to his surprise, she didn't stop him, clearly too shocked to really react. It was on the shorter side, but the feeling of her lips on his again sent a thousand shivers down his spine, and hers, but neither could place exactly what those shivers meant.

As the weight of what he'd just done settled on Mark's shoulders, he pulled back suddenly, eyes wide. "I'm sorry." He gushed, looking around wildly. He grabbed his keys, quickly stepping back from her. "I'm sorry."

Her lips hung open, as if she was going to call after him, but she was too shocked to say anything.

"I have to go."

The door swung shut behind him, leaving her to what was left of her hot chocolate and her sanity. This was going to be another night with no sleep, she knew, but she refused to let the tears come this time.

 _What the_ fuck _just happened?_


	15. May I Rest In Peace

The phone was ringing before he was even out of the neighborhood. Mark pressed the screen to his ear, desperately hoping that Jack would pick up. Surely enough, in what felt like the last ring before it went to voicemail, the sound cut short, replaced by a tired, " _Hello_?"

"Jack, I fucked up." Mark was staring down the road, unable to pry his eyes off of the situation in front of him. He couldn't, or his thoughts would flood him. "I fucked up really bad."

" _Mark? What happened_?" Jack sounded a lot more awake than he had before, and much more concerned. " _How did ya fuck up_?"

"I kissed her, Jack." Mark could feel the heat rising to his face, but it was more because he was feeling trapped than feeling flustered. "We were talking about your conversation, and how you think we still love each other, and I don't know...I wasn't _thinking,_ I just kissed her."

" _Oh_ , _shite."_ Jack was quiet for a second. " _What are you going ta do?"_

"I don't know what to do." 

" _What did she do?"_

"I don't know, I freaked out and left." Mark sighed, running his other hand over his face. He pulled over at a gas station, coming to a halt in a parking space a ways off from the main building. He just needed to sit and think for a moment. 

" _You did_ what?" Jack yelled, causing Mark to pull the phone away from his ear. " _What the fuck do ya mean, ya just left? Ya can't do that ta her!"_

"What am I supposed to do?" Mark was desperate. He lay his forehead against the steering wheel, feeling so utterly screwed. "She's going to hate me, isn't she?"

" _Honestly? She might."_ Jack sighed. " _Dammit, Mark, you're gonna half to travel a mile and then some ta make up fir this one. Good luck, pal."_

"I know, but what about _Amy?_ "

" _Shit, you're right."_ Mark could hear Signe talking in the background. _"Do ya want ta fix things with Amy, or (Y/N)?"_

"How the hell am I supposed to answer that?" Mark said, exasperated. "I'm guessing both isn't a choice?"

_"Look at it this way, Mark. You're gonna have ta go back ta one of them, and whichever one ya don't go back ta, you're gonna have ta talk to in the morning. Either way, I imagine wounds are better healed when handled fresh."_

"Fuck, you're right." He hit his hand on the steering wheel, feeling hopeless. "How...how do I choose?"

" _Mark, I know you're worried about someone hatin' ya in this situation, but I think we both know who you're more concerned about."_

Jack was right once again, and Mark almost hated him for it. He knew what he had to do, the only problem was, he knew the damage had already been done. "Jack, she's never going to speak to me again."

_"She loves ya, Mark. Of course she will. Ya might just get the cold shoulder and a few angry texts before she opens up."_

Mark sighed, backing out of the parking spot. "Let's just hope she doesn't snap my neck."

" _She's not strong enough ta do that. Guard yir balls, though."_

He chuckled, despite his frustration. "Don't think you're off the hook for instigating this mess."

" _I would never."_ He was quiet for a second. _"And my time comes, she's calling me. Let me know how it all turns out, okay?"_

"Will do." Mark smiled. "And good luck."

_"I'll need it. May I rest in peace."_


	16. Something Happened

_(Y/N), answer the door._

_-11:52 pm._

_(Y/N), please. Let me come in and talk to you._

_-11:55 pm._

_I know you're home. Please?_

_-12:03 am._

Mark sighed, resting his head against the cold wood. The windows were dark, and he didn't hear anything inside, but he knew better than to assume she'd gone to bed. He knew she was home, obviously, and with each passing minute of her not answering the door, his pulse quickened. He'd been out here for almost half an hour now, and his hope was beginning to wear thin. 

_I'm sorry I walked out, okay? I freaked out a little. Okay, maybe a lot. Please let me talk to you?_

_-12:08 am._

It was 12:17 before he decided to head back to the car, his head hanging low on his shoulders. God, he'd screwed this situation to hell. How was he supposed to talk about this? What would he say? And what about Amy? Fuck if he knew what to do with that situation.

As he slipped into his car and pulled out of the driveway, Mark could feel his face getting hot. In the span of 48 hours, he'd done a complete 180, and the reflection he was seeing in the corner of his side mirror was not his own.

* * *

Amy was sitting on the couch when he got back to the apartment, her hands clasped nervously in her lap. Even though the TV was on, he could tell that she wasn't watching it - likely, she'd tried to distract herself while waiting for him. He'd been gone almost two hours now, much longer than she'd probably thought he would be.

"Hey," He said softly, shutting the door behind him.

"How is she?" She asked softly, standing as he made his way into the kitchen. The sound of footsteps behind him made it obvious that she'd followed.

Mark didn't answer initially. How was he supposed to? You don't exactly come out and say, ' _Not great, but I wouldn't know, because after I kissed her and walked out she stopped answering me'?_ He couldn't. Never in a million years would he be able to look her in the eye and say those words. But he was more aware of something now than he had been before; Jack was right, and though Mark hated to admit it, he was still absolutely head over heels for (Y/N). He'd done a lot of thinking in the time between calling Jack and going back to her house, and in that time, he'd come to the realization that he had been happier since she'd come back into his life. Whether it was because she made him so, or the tension between them had finally dissipated for a time, he wasn't sure. Either way, he couldn't look at Amy and say he felt any way for her as he did for (Y/N).

She was staring at him, frowning. "Are you okay?"

He sighed, nodding. "Yeah, I'm okay."

There was an awkwardness between them that he hadn't felt before. He didn't feel a pull to her, suddenly, as if any chemistry had been sucked out of the air between them. He just felt guilty.

Amy sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "Something happened, didn't it?"

He looked up, frowning. "Why are you asking me that?"

She shrugged, crossing her arms. "Because you won't look at me?" Amy tucked a loose strand of platinum hair behind her ear and flashed him a small, sad smile. "I'm not stupid, Mark. I see the way you look at her. I'd be an idiot to think I have a shot at beating that."

He could feel his cool demeanor falling. "Amy-"

"Mark, I'm not mad." She smiled at him then, and though he could see the pain on her face, he couldn't actually find any anger, as she'd said.

"You're not mad?"

"Of course not." Amy approached him then, putting her hands on his shoulders. "I care a lot about you. I want you to be happy, and I know that it's not gonna be with me." She shrugged, crossing her arms once again. "I talked to Signe for a long time while you were gone. She explained a lot of what happened between you and (Y/N), and frankly, I think it would just be cruel of me to try and stand in the way of that. You guys..." She looked like it pained her to say it, "I think you need each other. Sure, it hurts like hell, and sure, I don't like the thought of walking away from you so you can find someone else, but I care too much about you to ask you to stay with me if it's not what you want."

Mark was dumbfounded. Here she was, laying her soul bare to him, handing him the words he'd been trying to say all night, and he didn't even have the decency to tell her what had happened. "You're really something, Amy." He sighed, shaking his head. "Wow, this conversation is going a lot better than I pictured in my head."

She nodded, chewing her lip. "So something did happen, then."

He slowly tilted his head in a 'yes' fashion, swallowing his pride. "I kissed her."

She was quiet for a second, processing. "I have to say, that's not what I thought you would say."

He frowned, confused. "What?"

"Well, you were gone, like, two hours. I thought you might've slept with her."

Mark choked on the air in his throat, looking at her with wide eyes. "Okay, I know I'm an asshole, and this is bad enough, but I'm not _that_ cruel. Besides, she's been through a lot. I wouldn't want to take advantage of the situation."

She nodded, leaning back on the counter. "I don't think you're that cruel, my mind just...wandered, I guess." Amy sighed, bringing the sleeve of her sweater to her lips. She looked up at him, murmuring, "Other than that, though, how is she?"

He felt his chest ache a little. He just told his girlfriend he'd kissed his ex, and she was asking about how his ex was doing. "She's okay, I think. Definitely stressed, and I don't think she's been sleeping. I'm kind of worried. Especially after tonight, I'm terrified that anything's going to push her over the edge."

"What do you mean, 'after tonight'? You just kissed her, right?" Amy was furrowing her brows at him, seemingly confused.

He let out a bitter laugh. "And then proceeded to walk out and slam a door in her face, yeah." Just saying it made him feel like a bastard.

Her face paled. "You didn't."

Mark cringed. "I did."

"Mark." Despite obviously being a little comfortable with their topic of discussion, he could see her disappointment written plainly on her features. "From what I heard from Signe, that's what fucked you over to begin with. You mean to tell me that you finally crossed a bridge, started _actually_ being okay with her, and then you walked out on her _again?_ " She sighed, shaking her head. "I mean, you just told me you cheated on me, and even I think that's more of a dick move."

He groaned. "I know, and I tried to go back and apologize, but she wouldn't answer the door."

"Maybe she went to sleep."

"I doubt it," He mumbled, brushing his hair out of his face, "She hardly sleeps when she's stable." He was quiet for a second, just staring at her, and her staring at him. Finally, he whispered, incredulous, "I still can't believe you're being so calm about this."

"Mark," She murmured, laughing softly, "I've been preparing myself for this ever since I first heard her name. I can't really say I'm losing you, cause I never had you to begin with."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Our first date was the week after you fought with her at that convention, remember? Even then, you couldn't get over her. Don't think I never noticed that you still watch all of her videos."

"You know that?" Once again, Mark was dumbfounded.

"Mark, the first two things that pop up in the address bar on your computer are her YouTube page and Twitter. It wasn't exactly a puzzle."

He almost chuckled. Instead, the sound was dry, slightly cracked. "I'm an idiot."

She laughed then, actually smiling. "Yeah, you are." With that, she made her way past him and into the bedroom, returning mere seconds later with a few bags and a suitcase. "I'm gonna stay at Kathryn's for a few nights while we figure things out, okay?"

"You already had your things packed."

Amy shrugged, her sad smile returning. "Like I said, I talked to Signe, and you were gone a really long time. I was very sure something had happened." She approached him then, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I'll be in touch, okay?"

He nodded, crossing his arms. "I'm sorry, Amy."

"It's not okay, but I understand why, and I'm not gonna hold it against you." She laughed, catching him off guard. "And for god's sakes, Mark, make it up to her. Don't fuck this up on both ends, alright?"

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. "I'll try my best."

She smiled, propping the door open with her foot. "That's my boy. Goodnight, Mark."

"Goodnight, Amy."

And she was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	17. Good Luck

Neither he nor Jack had heard from her in two days. It had gotten to the point that Jack had waited outside her front door for an hour, trying to get her to answer, but he'd failed, just as Mark had. When, at last, even Signe failed, they decided that maybe giving (Y/N) some space was a good idea. Or, at least, he and Jack had. Signe was feeling very differently about the situation.

"No, it's a bad idea," She repeated, glancing to her left, where her green-haired boyfriend sat, chomping on a pastry he'd gotten from the front. They were in the same cafe he, Mark, and (Y/N) had met in a few days ago, only a booth down from the one they'd been seated in. Signe sat next to Jack, and Mark sat opposite of them, looking more stressed than either of them had seen him. Thus far, he'd been vague about the Amy situation, but Jack had gathered enough to know that things had been handled considerably well. Either way, Mark didn't appear to be sleeping well, if the bags under his eyes were any sort of tell.

"I don't know what else to do," Mark responded, exasperated. He wanted to pull his hair out.

"You have to keep trying." She looked to Jack for help, but he shrugged, his mouth full. "Am I the only sane one here? How well did giving her space go for you last time, Mark?" She could see that her words hit him hard, but she couldn't let up. He had to get her point. "Obviously, when it comes to the two of you, ignoring your problems and avoiding each other doesn't help you at all. You need to force her to talk to you, and _you_ need to pick up the pieces. The poor girl's already coming apart, you can't expect her to deal with this on her own."

"You saw it yourself, Signe, she won't answer the door. I've called her, texted her, even left notes in her mailbox. She isn't even getting the mail, and her voicemail inbox is full, so I'm not sure what else I'm supposed to do."

"Break in."

Jack choked on his pastry, looking at her with wide eyes. "Let's calm down now, ya? Yes, the situation is bad, but let's not resort ta federal crimes."

She sighed. "I don't mean shatter a window, or anything. Surely you still have a key to the place. It was your house, wasn't it?"

Mark chewed on his lip, unsure. "I might, somewhere. But, still-"

"No but's, Mark. If for nothing else, we need to check up on her. I'm worried." Signe's voice took on a desperate plea. "I don't like the thought of her locking herself up in there, alone with her thoughts. She's in a fragile, dark place, and this isn't going to help."

Jack spoke up suddenly. "I'll do it."

"What?" Mark looked over at him, a brow raised. "Do what?"

"Get me the key, I'll do it." He shrugged. "No offense, Mark, but she probably isn't itchin' ta see yur face right now. I imagine she'll be a lot less mad if it's me or Signe walkin' inta her house."

Mark sighed. "I guess you're right." Running a hand through his hair, he looked at Signe, as tired as ever. "I'll look for a key later, and I'll drop it by the hotel if I find it, okay?"

"Alright."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	18. A Decent Proposal

He'd been looking for three hours. No matter how many boxes he looked through, or drawers he sorted, he couldn't find anything that resembled what he was looking for. Sure, he'd found keys, but he was aware of the locks they fit, and no mysterious pieces had turned up thus far. At one point, he'd gotten so frustrated that he'd sunk to the floor, welling in his own thoughts until they began to take form in his eyes and on his cheeks. Finally, he'd broken down, and it had been a long few moments before he recovered.

Just as he was tempted to give up, he heard a soft ' _rap_ ' on his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, but he wouldn't be surprised if Jack or Signe had turned up to check on his progress. Sighing, he made his way to the door, not bothering to check who it was before pulling it open.

Jack stood there with wide eyes, fist raised as if he were going to knock again. "Dear god, Mark," He grumbled, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

"What?" Mark asked, frowning. From the look on Jack's face, something had definitely happened, and it couldn't have been good. "What happened?"

"I have never seen her so angry," Jack mumbled, incredulous. "Good luck to ya."

"So you've heard from her?" Mark looked up at him hopefully, eyes hard-pressed on his face, awaiting answers.

"You could say that," Jack murmured, avoiding his gaze, "Hey, Mark?"

"Yeah?" He was getting nervous now. Jack was acting odd, and Mark wasn't dumb enough to think nothing of it.

"Have ya ever thought that...maybe...trying ta get ahold of her right now isn't a great idea?"

"Why?" Mark was incredulous. Here he'd thought Jack was coming either to give him good news or console him, and instead he got...this. Whatever _this_ was.

"Think of it this way." Jack beckoned him other, motioning to the couch. Once Mark had taken a seat, Jack sat on the chair opposite of him, frowning. "She's just been through somethin' terrible, ya?"

Mark nodded, rubbing his hand over his chin. He wanted Jack to get to the point.

"Exactly. She's been through somethin' terrible, and the last  guy she dated almost snapped her neck. And now here ya are, after over a year, and the two of ya have somethin' startin' up again. I can't imagine she's lookin' ta hop right back inta another relationship-"

"Weren't you the one who _suggested_ this idea to her?" Mark sighed, making a motion with his hand. "You literally told her that you thought we-"

"I know what I said, and I mean it, I just think that the two 'a you need ta have better timing. You're both terrible at it." Jack let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Just give her time, is what I'm sayin'. She doesn't hate ya, she's just...confused, I guess? Who wouldn't be? I'm surprised tha girl is still standin' with the shit she's been through."

"You have a point." Jack was right, and Mark knew that, but part of him ached at the thought of more silence between him and (Y/N). Regardless, if it was time she needed, that was what he would give her. "So forget about the key then, huh?"

"Yea," Jack murmured, laughing again, "I don't imagine going in uninvited would end well for anyone, and I'd like ta keep my limbs." With that, he stood, offering his arms to Mark.

Smiling, Mark hugged the shorter Irishman, happy that he'd taken the time out of his day to put Mark back on the right track. He always managed to do that. "What would I do without you, Jack?"

"Be alone forever," The green-haired man responded bluntly, a sly smile on his face. "Neither of ya have any idea what yur doin', that's for sure." And with that, he took his leave, flashing Mark one last wave on his way out the door.

* * *

 

It had been a week. She hadn't texted him, or called, or tweeted, or even posted on her channel - minus one three-minute video of her giving a heads up on why she'd be absent for a little while. From what he could tell in the video, she looked put together, but he knew her too well to fall for what he saw at face value.

So there he was, on her doorstep, with a bouquet of flowers and an apology ready on the lips. He'd been working up the courage just to get out of the car for five minutes, and he'd probably been standing there for longer. Finally, he managed to lift his hand and place three sharp knocks on the door, his heart already beginning to race. He was sure she wouldn't answer, if he'd learned anything from last time, but sure enough, the door swung open just as his hope was beginning to dwindle.

She was wearing a hoodie and pajama pants, and her hair was tied in a messy knot in such a way that it looked as though she'd slept in it. "Well?" She asked quietly, voice raw, "Come in."

He nodded, stepping in after her and shutting the door. She didn't stick around for introductions - she disappeared into the kitchen, and that was when he noticed the odd way she was walking.

"Do you want something to drink?" She asked as he joined her in the next room, her voice sounding off. He couldn't place just why, but she was definitely acting...odd.

His eyes fell down to the glass in her hand, and the bottle behind her on the counter, and that was when he came to an alarming realization. "Are you drunk?" He asked sternly, grabbing the bottle from behind her. She made a soft sound of protest, but didn't try and grab for it back, leaving him to examine the cover with worry in the creases of his brow. "Vodka? It's..." He looked at his phone. "Two p.m."

"So?" She shrugged, taking the bottle back and screwing off the lid, pouring more into her glass. "Oh, you brought flowers, how sweet." Though her words were supposed to be thoughtful, she said them in a deadpan tone of voice, her face expressionless except for her frown. "You can put them there." She motioned to a vase sitting on the counter.

"Why are there dead flowers in it?" He asked, examining the wilted roses. They'd definitely been here a long time, and it was unlike her to just leave them to die, and then leave their corpses to rot.

She shrugged again. "Those were from Elliot. A few weeks ago. You can throw them away, or toss the vase, I don't care." She grabbed the bottle and headed into the living room, plopping down on the couch. He noticed her nest; pillows and blankets were strewn about the cushions, making it obvious to him that she'd been sleeping down here. "Have you been sleeping down here?"

Mark grabbed the vase and tossed the dead flowers inside into the trashcan, making sure it was clear of dead plant before filling it with water and replacing it with his own, putting it back up on the counter. After he was finished, he followed her into the living room, looking at her expectantly. "(Y/N)?"

"Yeah?" She looked over at him, eyes tired, and pulled a blanket tighter around her shoulders. She was flipping through channels so quickly that he was sure she wasn't actually looking at them.

"I asked you if you've been sleeping down here?"

"Oh," She said softly, raising her glass to him in a mock toast, "Sure have."

"Why?"

"Can't sleep in the bed."

"Why not?"

"Nightmares." She said it simply, shrugging. He was starting to dislike the motion.

"Okay, give me this." Mark reached forward, snatching the bottle of Vodka from her just as she attempted to pour herself another glass. "You've had enough." As he cradled the bottle, he noticed with much concern how empty it was. "Jesus, when did you buy this?"

"Two days ago," She slurred, looking sideways at him, "Why'd you take it?"

"Because it's two p.m. and you're drunk, and I'm worried about you." He said it sternly, setting the bottle over on the counter. As soon as he returned, he took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, watching her. She pretended not to see him, once again scrolling absently through the channels on her TV. "Why aren't you talking to me?"

"I don't have anything to say."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You can't honestly expect me to believe that," He muttered, still looking at her. Finally, she turned to him, looking irritated. "Just talk to me, please?"

"Fine." She said it aggressively, alarmingly out of character for her. Slamming the remote down on the coffee table, (Y/N) turned so that she could face him, face already twisted angrily. "You want me to talk? Let's talk. What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?"

"Someone seems a little more sober now." He took a deep breath, preparing himself for her angry, drunken onslaught.

"Because I'm not drunk, you idiot," She scoffed.

"How many of those have you had?" He pointed to her glass, an eyebrow raised.

"That doesn't matter." She sounded bitter. "Seriously, who the fuck do you think you are?" She put her hands on the side of her face, as if trying to force words out that wouldn't come. "I have spent _days_ going over whatever the hell happened last weekend, and I still can't figure it out. What are you _doing? Why?"_

"(Y/N)-"

"No, shut the hell up. You told me to talk, I'm talking." Mark had never seen her this angry. He had to admit, though, he preferred this over her being sad, especially if he was the cause. "First, you force me into spending time with you and your girlfriend and all of our _friends_ and all of their _girlfriends,_ and then you beat the shit out of my boyfriend, and then you spend all morning alone with me, ignoring _your_ girlfriend, and....and....what the _fuck,_ Mark?" She was running out of breath, she was talking so fast. He just let her go, hoping she'd get it all out in a series of drunken slurs. "My ex-boyfriend, as of a week ago, is going to prison. My other ex-boyfriend, as of a year ago, is with someone else. But that didn't fucking stop you from doing what you did, did it?"

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "I don't regret it."

She scoffed again, eyes wide in disbelief. "Of course you don't. Of _course_ you don't. Do you even _know_ the shit I've been swallowing this past week?"

"No, because you wouldn't answer my calls." He was doing his best to keep his cool, but the more she threw her words in his face, the more he wanted to throw a few back. He knew, deep down, that it was the alcohol fueling her anger, and not her, but he was having a hard time accepting her drunken words.

"Because I didn't _want_ to!" She threw her hands up, pulling herself up to her feet. Mark did the same, staring evenly at her. She jabbed her finger in his direction, murmuring, "I didn't know what to say to you, Mark. I thought of a thousand things, and not a single one of them sounded anywhere close to what they should have, and I...I didn't know what to do! How do you handle something like that? What am I supposed to say when the one thing I wanted for _months_ happens, and I'm nowhere close to being prepared for it?"

He sighed. "I didn't mean to kiss you, (Y/N)."

"But you did." She was quieter now, and less angry-sounding. When he looked up, her eyes were glistening, and her lips were peeled back into an accusatory frown. "And then you left. _You_ did that. It wasn't me that fucked up this time."

"When have you ever fucked up?" He was shocked by her words.

She sighed, her hands falling to her sides. "I always do." With the weight of her words, she collapsed back onto the couch. He wasn't sure what her expression meant. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen it before. "I fucked up with you. I fucked up myself. I fucked up with Elliot." She threw her hands up again, but this time in defeat. "Hell, I'm screwing this up right now."

"No you're not." His voice took on a softer tone as he joined her on the couch, pleading with his expression for her to open up to him. "This has never been your fault. And don't you ever, _ever_ say that you messed up with Elliot. He's the one that's fucked up."

She was crying now. Mark felt like he'd seen her cry more than smile in the last two weeks, and he hated it.

"I'm not saying it was my fault," She mumbled, "I just should've known better."

He looked at her for a few moments, trying to figure out what else to say. He had so many thoughts in his head, but they couldn't collect into words, and with each passing second, his throat was closing. Sighing, he swallowed his nerves, eyes trained on her own. They were both silent for a second, just watching each other. 

"I love you," He finally said. 

Her eyes widened, face contorting into a blend of surprise and confusion. "Mark-"

"I  _love_ you." He said it more firmly this time, stepping closer to her. "I always have. I never stopped. All of this time, I have loved you."

Her lips were parted in words gone unspoken, her eyes clinging to his face as if he might disappear if she looked away.

"I told Amy what happened." Now that he'd gathered the courage to finally say these things to her, he couldn't keep them from spilling out of his mouth. "She knew. She knew the second I walked in the door."

"How?" She asked, timidly.

"I don't know." He flashed her a sheepish smile, tucking his hands into his pockets. "According to her, and I guess Jack too, it's pretty obvious to everyone that I'm in love with you." Mark took another step forward, bringing his hands from his pockets and setting them idly on her forearms, looking directly into her eyes. "She's not in the picture anymore. Things ended as well as they could have, I guess, but I haven't heard from her. I think she was waiting for this to happen."

"She wasn't angry with you?"

"Oh, she was, but also just...disappointed, I guess. She seemed to be coming to terms with it fairly well."

She nodded, clearly taking in all he'd said. After a few seconds of him looking at her and her gazing down at the floor, she took the smallest step forward, pressing her head against his chest. "I'm still mad at you," She mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 

Mark chuckled, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Her own arms hung limply at her sides, refusing to commit fully to the embrace. "I can imagine," He murmured, laying his head against the top of hers. "As long as you don't hate me, I think I'll be okay."

She shifted her head a little, mumbling, "I could never hate you."

"I'm surprised, I've screwed you over  _quite_ a few times." Despite the reality of his words, he chuckled again, pulling back just enough to see her face. She looked at him expectantly, face tired and slightly puffy. "(Y/N), I'm not asking you to jump right back into a relationship with me, and I'm not expecting you to immediately reciprocate everything I've said. I just want to have a shot."

"A shot?" She frowned.

"Do you still love me?" He asked softly, holding his breath.

"Of course I do." She smacked his arm as if he were an idiot, a small smile ghosting across her lips. 

"Well," He said, laughing, "I think Jack's made a few good points in the last two weeks. I am happier with you back in my life, and I'm aware enough of my idiocy now not to push you out of it. I want another shot at this, with you."

She sighed, tilting her head at him, "Mark-"

"Like I said, I don't mean right now. We have a few bridges to repair, I know, and there are still some problems that we have yet to work out. I know you're going through a lot right now, and I am fully aware of how  _terrible_ my timing is, so this is completely up to you." He lifted his hand, touching it softly to her cheek. To his surprise, she leaned into it, her soft smile returning. "We can take this as slow as you want. I want us to be great, you know? If that means waiting weeks, or months, or another year for us to finally put all of the pieces in their place and work things out, I'll do it." 

She was quiet, just staring up at him.

"Please say something," He said sheepishly, "I'm practically on my knees."

She giggled, rolling her eyes. "Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"You're an idiot." Just as he was about to protest, her smile grew, and she swatted playfully at his chest. "But for an idiot, you offer a pretty tempting proposal." Taking a deep breath, she grabbed for one of the blankets on the couch to her left, swaddling it around her own shoulders. "Alright."

"Alright?"

"I'll do this, but it's going to be slow, I'm warning you. As you can probably tell," She laughed bitterly, "I'm a little fucked up right now."

"Nah, I'd never have guessed." He laughed, grabbing some dishes from the table. "Promise me something?"

"Yeah?" She walked with him to the kitchen, brows raised.

"Stop day drinking."

"I'll consider it."

 

 

 


	19. Mount Baldy

"Can I open my eyes yet?" She had her hands clasped over her face as instructed, smothering any hope she had of seeing the road in front of them. Turning her head in his direction, she added, "Mark?"

"Not yet." He grinned, putting one hand on the top of the steering wheel and the other on the edge of the window. Music filtered softly through the speakers; he was more fond of comfortable silence in the car, but she'd insisted on playing some 'road-trip' playlist she'd made years ago. 'Nostalgic,' she'd called it. It reminded her of happier times.

"My arms are getting tired," She whined, leaning her head back against the seat. "it's been  _hours._ "

"Don't be so dramatic." Mark chuckled, glancing over at her. "We don't have much farther, relax. Besides, I didn't make you cover your eyes until we got off the interstate-"

"Which was an  _hour_ ago-"

"You're fine." He smiled, turning off onto a side road. His car wasn't necessarily built for off-road treks, but he wasn't going that far, and the path was cleared from frequent use. Finding a small indentation in the brush to the right, he pulled in, putting the car in park. "Ready?"

"Can I look now?"

"We have a little walking to do, and then yes." He undid his seat belt and slid out of the car, jogging around to her side. She'd already undone her own seat belt with one hand, which made him suspicious, but he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he looped his arm through hers and helped her out of the car, his free hand keeping her head from hitting the roof. "It's not far."

(Y/N) sighed, hints of a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "Alright, alright. Just don't let me fall, okay?"

"I wouldn't dream of it." He used his key fab to lock the car and shoved them into his pocket next to his wallet. "You know, if I can trust you not to peek, you can put your hands down."

She beamed. "Deal!" (Y/N) lowered her arms and wrapped them around his, holding securely onto them in an insecure attempt not to face-plant. "So, I know we're in the woods-"

"Are you peek-"

"I have a nose, Mark. It smells like wet wood." She giggled, using one hand to jab at his sides. 

He made a huffing sound, a smile very present on his face. He hadn't really thought about the smell, and he had to give her credit for noticing it so quickly. Besides, there were hundreds of miles of woods in California - it's not like she'd be able to pinpoint where they were. She was good, but not  _that_ good. 

Mark gently used her arm to guide her over a big pile of branches, making sure to tell her just how high to step so that she wouldn't scratch herself. It wasn't much farther ahead now, and he was growing more and more excited by the minute. He thought she'd started to notice, too, just by the sound of his voice and the rushed way he was pulling her along. 

After a few more minutes of walking, he finally arrived at the location he wanted to show her - the trail head, in a big, open meadow, with wildflowers already sprouting from the ground. "Okay," He murmured, pulling her to a stop, "Open your eyes." 

And she did, slowly. Within seconds, her face lit up with wonder, her eyes trailing over their surroundings as if trying to memorize every detail. She didn't say anything - or even look at him - for what felt like five minutes. She just stood there, grinning like a child, her eyes wide. 

Finally, she turned to him, and instead of saying anything, she threw her arms around his neck and began laughing. "You didn't!" She murmured, small giggles escaping her lips as he pressed his arms into her back, effectively swinging her in a little circle. 

"I did," He responded, gently setting her on her feet. He turned slightly, revealing the backpack he'd strapped to his back after getting out of the car. It was big enough for the both of them, and that was the point; he hadn't wanted to make her put on a backpack, else she might've known, so he just shoved all of their supplies into his. 

"I've been talking about this hike for years!" She exclaimed, pointing at the trailhead.  _'Mount San Antonio'_ was written in blocky, black letters, followed by the number '13.6'. 

"I know, that's why we're here." He smiled, loving how excited she was about this. Honestly, he was dreading the physical effort he'd have to put into this, but he knew it would be worth it. "And we're here now, so if we keep a steady pace, we should reach the summit by sunset." 

Her jaw practically dropped. "How did you know?"

"A certain Irishman clued me in."

She laughed. "Of course he did." (Y/N) stood there for a moment longer, taking in the sight, before grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the trail. "You ready for this, Fischbach?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, (L/N)."

* * *

 

"Mark, come  _on!_ " She was laughing, somehow sounding only slightly winded. "It wasn't  _that_ bad."

"It was awful," He responded, forcing his knees to carry him up the last little stretch. "Everything hurts. Do my ankles look broken? They feel broken."

"Mark."

"I'm sweating more than I've ever sweat in my entire-"

"Mark."

"Wow, I don't know how-"  _huff_ "-You're so energetic still, I mean-"  _huff_ "-I know you're in shape, but-"

" _Mark,_ " She said, clasping his shoulder. "Shut up, and look." She pointed ahead of them, through the trees that marked the summit of the trail. From here, they could see the crest of the hill, where the gravel turned into dirt and the valley was completely visible. He could already see the streaks of color in the sky above them, and he had to give himself credit for his impeccable planning skills. 

"Help me to the top," He whined, grabbing her hand. 

She laughed, clasping his fingers in hers, and tugged him along behind her. It wasn't far, maybe twenty steps, and before he could really get a deep breath, they'd reached the highest point on the hill. 

His jaw practically dropped. Ahead of them stretched miles and miles of rolling mountains, cast in shadows and splotches of orange and pink. Clouds dotted the horizon in puffy colonies just beyond the mountains, in the direction he imagined home was. From here, looking at this, it was hard to believe that LA was only an hour away. He'd never seen anything like it. 

She squeezed his hand, and when he looked over, she was staring out at the view with glossy eyes. "Hey Mark?" She said after a minute, not looking up at him.

"Yeah?" He asked softly. 

She lay her temple against his shoulder, sighing softly. "Don't get me wrong, your timing with the sunset was amazing," She murmured, smiling, "But you realize that means we have to hike home in the dark?" 

He laughed, reaching around with his free arm to unzip a pocket on the side of his pack. He pulled out two flashlights, grinning like an idiot. "I planned ahead."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You're such a dork."

"Don't act like it's not my best attribute." He laughed again and lowered himself to the ground, pulling her with him. 

They sat there, legs crossed, hand-in-hand, watching the way the sun disappeared behind the most distant mountain, leaving an indigo twilight in its wake. He'd never seen anything like it, and as much as he wanted to take a picture, he couldn't bring himself to interrupt the moment. Instead, he took mental pictures, memorizing the way the horizon looked reflecting on her face, and the way she looked at him, and the light feeling he had in his chest at being here with her. 

They sat in silence until the last bits of light were fading and the world was quiet. Even as they stood and started back to the trail, they said nothing, only smiled at each other and clasped each other's fingers. Their flashlights bobbed up and down on the trail, dancing across the rocks and trees, and in that moment, it seemed like they were the only ones out here. The entire hike up, they hadn't seen another soul, much less heard one. He wasn't complaining - he still had traces of cell service if they got into trouble, and he didn't imagine she was longing for anyone else to show up and interrupt. 

When they were almost back to the car - he knew because he could hear the rushing water of the falls, which had been a little ways from the meadow they'd started in - she whispered something to him. He didn't hear her at first, so he looked over, quirking a brow. "What?"

She smiled, softly. He could barely make out her features in what little light from their flashlights reflected back at them. "I've really missed you, Mark."

He felt his breath catch in his throat. "I've missed you too, (Y/N). I don't think I could ever put how much into words." 

She nodded, looking back down at her feet. "I can't help but feel a little guilty."

Mark quickly looked back at her, frowning. "Why?"

"Because you and Amy had something nice going." (Y/N) sighed. "She's a really nice girl, and I can't help but feel responsible for-"

"No, stop." Mark pulled her to a halt in the trail, gripping securely at her hand. The look on his face was firm. "Don't  _ever_ feel like you had anything to do with what happened between Amy and I. Regardless of how I feel about you, I don't think she and I would have lasted much longer." 

"Why?" She asked softly, raising her eyebrows.

He smiled. "Because I'm a huge dork with big dreams and too many aspirations, and she's a huge dork that likes iced coffees and primary colors, and I just think that we were meant to be friends. Our dorkiness was clashing." He laughed softly, shaking his head. "Besides, I talked to her the other night."

She tilted her head curiously. This was news to her. "How did that go?"

"Really well, actually. She's not harboring any ill will, but that's not surprising. Amy's not really one to hold a grudge." He started pulling her along then, not wanting to be standing still in the dark for the remnants of his story. "We talked for like an hour, just about everything that happened and how we're feeling about it. I told her the full extent of our past, which she'd only known bits of before, and she was really understanding. She told me that she wanted me to be happy, and she'd known the second that you came back into the picture that it wasn't with her."

"Oh." She nodded, still watching her feet. "Did she say anything else?"

"She went on a date." He laughed, shaking his head.

"So soon?"

"Well, like I said, she'd been predicting what happened for a few months. She was ready, I think, and I feel shitty about that, but...," He sighed, "I guess there's nothing I could've really done. She knew what was going to happen way before I did." He adjusted his flashlight, shining it ahead of them, where the meadow was growing closer. "Anyway, you'll never guess who she went on a date with." 

"Who?"

" _Ethan._ " He laughed again, glancing over at her. She was grinning. "Now  _that's_ an example of two dorks who compliment each other. I can't really say I didn't see it coming."

She smiled thoughtfully, nodding. "I haven't really talked to him a lot. Or Katherine. The only one I really know from that group is Tyler, but that's because he's been around for a long time." 

He nodded, chuckling quietly. "Ethan even called me and asked my permission to ask her out again. I think he's really excited - they've had a connection from the beginning, but I think it's just been innocent until now, for obvious reasons." 

"So how did she sound when she told you about it?"

"I think she was smiling. I'm happy for her, she deserves someone as kind-hearted as Ethan."

"Mark," She said, jabbing his side again, "You're one of the most kind-hearted people I know."

"Doubtful, but regardless," He grinned, kissing the side of her head, "My heart is in another place."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You  _are_ a dork." 

"Yeah?" He asked, cocking a brow at her, "Well you're a dweeb."

As soon as they entered the meadow, she released his hand, a mischievous smile spreading across her lips. "Race you to the car!" With that, she bolted, her flashlight bobbing wildly on the grass.

"That's not fair!" He shouted after her, exhausted. "I have this giant backpack!" 

"Not my fault!" She called back.

He could hear her giggles from here, and he smiled to himself, forcing his legs to hit their full stride. Despite the weight on his spine, he managed, taking off after her. He knew he wouldn't win, but that didn't matter.

He had the keys.

 


End file.
